BANJO  TALKS 


> 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


BANJO    TALKS 


f  %      ' 

I  * 


We-all  drinks  de  sweet  juice  down 
F'um  de  cup  so  green  an'  roun' 


BANJO  TALKS 


By 

ANNE  VIRGINIA  CULBERTSON 

Author  of 

At  the  Big  House 
Lays  of  a  Wandering  Minstrel 


Illustrated  from  Photographs  by 
MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP 
&  HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1905 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


OCTOBER 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,   N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

WEN  DE  BANJER  TALKS           •        I 

DE  GAL  WID  DE  CRYIN*  SHOES         .       .        .      ...       .  .       6 

DE  WOOD-HANTS       .       ...       .       .       .       •  •       8 

"OL1  LYNCHBURG  TOWN"          .        .        .        ..       .       .  .      12 

HARVEST  SONG   .  .     .       .       .       .       .       .       .       .  •      16 

Miss  SALLY-GAL         .       .       ,        .       .        .       .        .  .      20 

WITH  THE  SPINNING  LESSON     . '      .        .       .        .        .  .22 

LINDY,  COME  ERLONG        .        .        .        .       .       .       .  .      26 

DE  STUM'LIN'-BLOCK 28 

KNOCKIN'  DE  'RANG-A-TANG     .        .        .        .       ".       .  -3° 

COMIN' THU         .        .        .        .'       .     "  .        .             .  .  •      34 

A  TOAST        .       .        .        .       .        .        .        .        .       .  36 

PLOWIN' TIME '      .               .  38 

TEN'ENCE    .       . .  -43 

LISTENING  TO  THE  ACCORDION         .        .       .        .        .  -47 

DE  SONG  ER  DE  'SKEETER        .        .        .        .       .        .  .51 

Go  LIGHTLY,  GAL       .        .        .               .        .       .       .  -53 

JES' LOOKIN' ON          . .    .   *       .        .        .       .       ...      56 

QUIT  DAT  PLAYIN'  TOSSUM       .       .       ,        .       .        .  .61 

CHRIS'MAS  COMIN'       .        .        ..;.:.        .        .        .  .      63 

THE  TURKEY-DREAM         .        .        .        .       .        .        .  .      66 

SUNDAY  FISHIN'  .        .        .        .        .               .       .  -     .  .      71 

MY  LI'L  GAL  DONE  GOT  A  BEAU      .       .        .        .        .  -73 


PAGE 

WHAR  DEM  SINFUL  APPLES  GROW  .        .        .        .        .79 

BUCK-STEER        .       .        .       ...       .       .        .        .82 

MY  CHILLEN'S  PICTYAH      .       .        .     '•'•;"'     .       .   •    <        -87 
THE  CONJURE-DOCTOR       .        .        .       •       ...        .      90 

WHEN  THE  CROP'S  LAID  BY  .....      95 

WEN  I  SEES  a  YALLER  GAL     .        .        ,        .        ...      98 

TELL  'EM  HOWDY        .        .  •      . :      .        .        .  .      .        .        .102 

LAY  Low,  MISTER  TURKEY       .  -      .       -.  .      .        . '     , .        .     105 

ANSWERING  THE  MOCKING-BIRD      .        „        .        .        ,        .107 

GITTIN' UNDER  POWER 112 

SKEESICKS  . .117 

QUIT  Yo' WORRYIN' .     122 

OL'  MISTER  GRAY-MOSS    .        .        .'       .  ...     124 

TOTIN'  MOMMER'S  BABY    .     •  .        .        .        .        .        .        .     128 

IN  THE  MELON-PATCH        .  •     .« 131 

WHEN  WE  HEAR  THE  ORGAN  DOWN  THE  STREET        .  136 

CALLING  THE  Cows    .        .        .     ,  .        .        .        .  .138 

IN  SORGHUM  TIME      •        .  •     .  •     .        .        .        .        .        .143 

MOM'S  A  WASHER-LADY    . 147 

DE  INCH-WU'M  AN'  DE  HOPPER-GRASS  .        .  •     .        .    152 

JES  A-STUDYIN'  .....        ...        .    155 

Miss  JINNY          .        .     •  .  •    ..  .  •  .        .160 

DE  TUKKEY-TAIL  FAN       .  .165 

LI'L  SISTAII  .     168 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"We-all  drinks  de  sweet  juice  down  FRONTISPIECE 

F'um  de  cup  so  green  an'  roun' "       MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP 

PAGE 

"Wen  de  banjer  talks"                           HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  3 

"Dey  better  be  good"                             MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  9 

"Oh  !  de  cradle  hit  goes  swingin'  "       MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  17 

"Dar's  nuttin'  lak  de  ol'-time  ways"     MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  23 

"Dough  de  cabin  mighty  small, 

Room  fer  ev'y  comer"                        HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  31 

"Dat's  a  team,  I  tell  you  now!"             HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  39 

"I  wanster  play  de  'corjum,  too"           MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  49 

•'Dey  ain'hadde  raisin' dat  I  done  got"   HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  57 

"Mandy's  in  a  tukkey-dream"               MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  67 

"OF  'ooman,  we's  a-gittin'  on"                HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  75 

"Wen  I  goes  ter  town  in  my  li'l  ox-kyart" 

HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  83 

"She's  a  cunjer-doctah,she  is  fersho' "   MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  91 

"I  gits  my  eyes  all  fixed  fer  her, 

My  mouf  begins  ter  laff "                    HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  99 

"I  whustles,  too,  bekase  I'se  gay"        MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  109 

"De  sma'tes'  li'l  dog,  suh"                     MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP  119 

"We  loads  ow'  kyart  an'  we  meks  fer  town" 

HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK  125 


"Dar's  a  milyun-patch  whar  grows 
Jes'  de  bestes'  fruit  we  knows"          MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP     133 


"Hit's  time  I  slip  up  to  de  bars" 

"Golly !  but  hit's  lonesome 
Wen  yo*  maw  ain'  home  !" 

''Jes'  a-studyin'  all  de  day" 


MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP    139 

HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK    149 
HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK    157 


"An'  den  I  riz  up,  fer  I  seem  ter  see 

Dat  'uz  de  wu'k  de  Lawd  cut  out  fer  me ! " 

HEUSTIS  PRATT  COOK    161 


"Teckholtmyhan'an'doanyoufear"  MARY  MORGAN  KEIPP     169 


For  the  privilege  of  reprinting  some 
of  these  verses,  acknowledgment 
is  due  the  courtesy  of  the  editors  of 
LIFE,  TRUTH,  PEARSON'S  MAGAZINE 
DIXIE, OUTING  and  other  publications 


BANJO    TALKS 


WEN    DE    BANJER   TALKS 

DOAN'  talk  erbout  yo'  singin', 

Dat's  well  enuff  sometimes 
Wen  de  singer's  got  some  git-up 

An'  de  wu'ds  an*  music  chimes, 
But  I  ru'rr  year  de  banjer 

Dan  ter  listen  at  de  rhymes. 

Oh,  my  soul  gits  up  an'  humps  husse'f 

An'  goes  outside  an'  walks, 
Wen  a  picker  gits  ter  pickin' 
An'de 

banjer 
talks! 


W'EN    DE    BANJER    TALKS 

Wen  banjer  git  ter  talkin' 

You  better  hoi'  yo'  tongue, 
Hit  mek  you  think  youse  gre't  an'  gran' 

An'  rich  an'  strong  an'  young, 
An'  ev'ything  whar  scrumpshus 

Right  at  yo'  feet  is  flung. 

Oh,  my  soul  gits  up  an'  humps  husse'f 

An'  goes  outside  an'  walks, 
Wen  a  picker  gits  ter  pickin' 
An'de 

banjer 
talks ! 

"You  darkies  mus'  be  happy," 

Dat  w'at  de  banjer  say, 
"Dey's  happiness  a-plenty 

All  strowed  erlong  de  way, 
But  you  better  be  a-grabbin' 

Fer  you  am'  got  long  ter  stay." 

Oh,  my  soul  gits  up  an'  humps  husse'f 

An'  goes  outside  an'  walks, 
Wen  a  picker  gits  ter  pickin' 
An'de 

banjer 
talks! 


1 


Wen  de  banjer  talks 


W'EN    DE    BANJER    TALKS 

Doan'  talk  erbout  de  fiddle, 

De  squeaky  li'l  thing, 
Er  mouf-harp  er  meecorjum, 

Er  harp  wid  seben  string, 
De  banjer  beats  creation, 

De  banjer  is  de  king! 

Oh,  my  soul  gits  up  an'  humps  husse'f 

An'  goes  outside  an'  walks, 
Wen  a  picker  gits  ter  pickin' 
An'de 
banjer 
talks! 


DE  GAL  WID  DE  CRYIN'  SHOES 

DEY'S  H'l  gal  I  knows  right  well, 

(Hey-o,  Miss  Rhody,) 
But  who  she  is  I  ain'  gwine  tell, 

(Hey-o,  Miss  Rhody,) 
Wen  Sunday  comes  she  dress  so  fine 
I  sca'cely  knows  dat  gal  er  mine ; 
She's  spick  an'  span,  de  gal  I  choose, 
F'um  her  haid  to  her  bran'  new  cryin'  shoes, 
De  neat  li'l  gal, 
De  sweet  li'l  gal, 
De  gal  wid  de  cryin'  shoes. 


DE    GAL    WID   DE    CRYIN'    SHOES 

Oh,  she's  de  gal  whar  putts  on  style 

(Hey-o,  Miss  Rhody,) 
Wen  she  goes  switchin'  up  de  aisle, 

(Hey-o,  Miss  Rhody,) 
De  haids  all  turn  ter  year  dat  soun', — 
She's  turnt  dis  haid  er  mine  clean  roun', 
My  heart  keeps  thumpin'  out  de  news 
"Yer  come  de  li'l  gal  wid  de  cryin'  shoes, 
De  neat  li'l  gal, 
De  sweet  li'l  gal, 
De  gal  wid  de  cryin'  shoes." 

She  'tend  lak  she  doan'  know  I'se  dere, 

(Hey-o,  Miss  Rhody,) 
An'  ef  I  wuz,  dat  she  ain'  kyare, 

(Hey-o,  Miss  Rhody,) 
She  toss  her  haid  ez  she  go  by, 
But  sump'n  speakin'  in  her  eye, — 
I  know  w'at  'tis,  but  I  doan'  choose 
Ter  tell  on  de  gal  wid  de  cryin'  shoes, 
De  neat  li'l  gal, 
De  sweet  li'l  gal, 
De  gal  wid  de  cryin'  shoes. 


DE    WOOD-HANTS 

WEN  de  moon  scrouch  down  behime  de  hill 
An'  de  dark  for  roun'  you  clost  an*  still, 
Keep  outer  de  wood 
Ef  you  know  w'at's  good, 
Fer  dey's  things  in  dar  dat  nuver  show 
'Twel  de  dark  come  on  an'  de  daylight  go, 
An'  dey  races  an'  runs,  an'  dey  flar's  an'  flants, 
An'  de  name  er  dem  creeturs  is  Hants,  chile,  hants! 

Wen  de  squinch-owl  hootin'  roun'  de  place 
An'  de  bats  fly  low  an'  slap  yo'  face, 
Keep  outer  de  wood 
Ef  you  know  w'at's  good, 
Fer  de  li'l  warm  gus'es  thu  de  trees, 
An'  de  li'l  col'  ones  whar  mek  you  freeze, 
Is  de  bref  er  dem  creeturs  whar  flar's  an'  flants, 
An'  de  name  w'at  we  calls  'em  is  hants,  chile,  Hants! 

8 


Dey  better  be  good 


DE    WOOD-HANTS 

Wen  you  see  lights  trab'lin'  up  an'  down 
Widout  no  pusson  ter  kyar'  dem  roun', 
Keep  outer  de  wood 
Ef  you  know  w'at's  good ! 
Foller  dem  things  an'  dey  'stray  you,  sho', 
You  kain't  kotch  up  an'  you  go  an'  go, 
An'  las'  dey  swamps  you,  an'  flar's  an'  flants, 
An'  de  name  er  dem  creeturs  is  hants,  chile,  Hants! 

Wen  biggitty  chillen,  'long  to'des  night, 
Git  cross  an'  norty  an'  doan'  do  right, 

Dey  better  be  good 

An'  'member  de  wood, 
Fer  dey's  things  in  dar  dat  nuver  show 
'Twel  de  dark  come  on  an'  de  daylight  go, 
An'  dey  races  an'  runs  an'  dey  flar's  an'  flants, 
An'  dey  hone  fer  bad  chillen,  dey  does,  dem  hants! 


ii 


"OL'    LYNCHBURG   TOWN" 

ACE,  is  you  pickin'  de  banjer?   Sho' ! 
No  'spectable  darky  does  dat  no  mo'. 

De  banjer-pickin',  de  ol'-time  chunes 
Is  all  gin  up  ter  de  no-kyoun'  coons. 

Lakwise  de  shuffle,  de  pidj  urn-wing 
Back-step  an'  all  dat  sawt  er  thing. 

De  neares'  we  gits  ter  de  ol'-time  ways 
Is  w'en  ow'  lodge  have  "tu'n-out"  days. 

Den  we  putts  ow'  begalium  on  so  fine, 
An'  goes  perawderin'  all  in  line. 

Wile  bre'ren  an'  sisters  bofe  is  dress' 
Up  pow'ful  fine  in  dey  Sunday  bes'. 

12 


De  cap'n  he  haids  us  wid  swo'd  in  ban', 
Den  comes  de  waltzer,  de  banner  an'  ban'. 

An'  w'en  de  music  begins  ter  soun' 

We  walks  'gin  de  lodge  f 'um  New  Hopes  town, 

Wile  ow'  cap'n  he  drills  us  all  so  fine 
An'  de  waltzer  snakes  in  an'  out  de  line. 

Am'  you  nuver  seed  two  lodges  walk 
'Gin  one  nu'rr  ?  Sho' !  how  you  talk ! 

Hit's  de  fines'  sight  in  all  dis  worl', 
Hit  mek  yo'  haid  spin  roun'  an'  whu'l, 

W'en  de  music  plays  an'  de  members  dey 
Gits  ter  prancin'  up  an'  down  dis-a-way. 

W'en  dey  pass  one  nu'rr  bofe  lodges  shout 
Per  ter  prove  which  got  de  bes'  "tu'n-out." 

We  walked  'gin  de  "Risin'  Star"  las'  week, 
We  made  dem  darkies  look  mighty  meek ! 

W'en  we  pass  deir  'cession  we  shout  so  loud 
You  cudden  year  one  er  de  urr  crowd. 


OL     LYNCHBURG    TOWN 

"American  Doves  of  P'otection/'  dat 
De  name  er  de  lodge  whar  I  b'longs  at. 

Brer  Ace,  I  wish  dat  yo'  wife  'ud  jine, 
Wen  she  dies  we  burry  her  mighty  fine. — 

You  better  stop  pickin'  dat  banjer,  boss, 
Er  yo'  nuver-dyin'  soul  be  los' ! 

Wat  chune  you  strike  up?  Ol'  Lynchburg  Town! 
Oh,  mussy !  my  footses  is  gwine  erroun' ! 

O  Lawd !  doan'  you  let  dat  darky  play, 
Er  I  lose  salvation  dis  ve'y  day. 

O  Lawd !  Dou  knowes'  my  weakes'  p'int, 
Dou  sees  de  limberness  uv  each  j  'int ! 

Dou  knowes'  dat  chune  jes'  natch'ly  boun' 
Ter  mek  my  footses  go  roun'  an1  roun' ! 

De  Lawd  done  'spised  my  humble  prayer, 
So  dis  ol*  darky  ain'  gwineter  care ! 

Play,  man,  play  hit,  dat  Lynchburg  Town! 
I'se  done  struck  inter  de  ol'  hoe-down ! 


"OL'    LYNCHBURG    TOWN" 

Faster,  faster,  I  tells  you  play, 
I  ain'  care  who-all  come  dis  way ! 

Ef  de  preacher  an'  all  de  members,  too, 
Wuz  ter  come  erlorig  I'd  darnse  dis  thu ! 

Ki,  dar !  faster !   Done  los'  my  crown 

Fer  de  sakes  er  darnsin'  Ol'  Lynchburg  Town! 


HARVEST    SONG 

SKY'S  mighty  blue,  mighty  blue,  mighty  blue, 
Sun's  mighty  hot,  mighty  hot,  thu  an'  thu, 
But  a  li'l  breeze  comes  siftin'  roun', 

Comes  siftin'  ev'ywhar, 

De  li'l  breeze  dat's  whusp'rin'  in 

De  pine-trees  over  dar. 

Oh !  de  cradle  hit  goes  swinging 
De  yaller  oats  a-flingin', 
Wile  my  song  goes  ringin',  ringin' 
'Gins'  de  pine-trees  over  dar. 

16 


Oh!  de  cradle  hit  goes  svvingin' 


HARVEST  SONG 

Bird's  mighty  sweet,  mighty  sweet,  mighty  sweet, 
Sounds  mighty  clost,  mighty  clost,  near  my  feet ; 
Neenter  try  ter  toll  me  off, 
I'll  let  yo'  nes'  alone ; 
I'se  got  a  li'l  fambly  nes' 

An'  young  uns  uv  my  own. 

Oh !  de  cradle  hit  goes  swingin', 
De  yaller  oats  a-flingin', 
Wile  my  song  goes  ringin',  ringin' 
To'des  de  li'l  nes'  I  own. 

Arm's  mighty  strong,  mighty  strong,  mighty  strong, 
Sweep's  mighty  long,  mighty  long,  mighty  long, 
Nuver  tire  f  'um  mawn  'twel  night, 

I  keeps  up  wid  de  bes', 
Bekase  dese  arms  is  wu'kkin'  fer 
De  fambly  in  de  nes'. 

Oh !  de  cradle  hit  goes  swingin', 
De  yaller  oats  a-flingin', 
Wile  my  song  goes  ringin',  ringin', 
To'des  de  fambly  in  de  nes'. 


MISS  SALLY-GAL 

SALLY-GAL  got  de  brightes'  eye, 

SKe  know  dat  well,  she  do, 
Sally-gal  got  a  wais' — oh,  my ! 

Look  lak  hit  bre'k  in  two. 
Yas,  Sally-gal  roll  dem  eyes  so  brown, 

But  Fse  de  las'  she  see, 
An'  ef  dat  wais'  wuz  one  mile  roun' 

Be  all  de  same  ter  me. 

Oh,  Miss  Sally-gal,  doan'  you  year  me  cry, 
Doan'  you  year  me  mo'nin',  an'  doan'  you  year  me  sigh? 
Oh,  come  erlong,  Miss  Sally-gal,  an'  wipe  my  weepin'  eye, 
Got  such  mis'ry  uv  de  heart  I'se  'feard  I  gwineter  die. 


20 


MISS    SALLY-GAL 

Sally-gal  she  kin  hoe  de  cawn, 

Goes  singin'  down  de  row, 
Beat  mos'  men,  ez  sho'  'z  yo'  bawn, 

A-han'lin'  uv  de  hoe. 
But  w'en  across  de  fiel'  I  come, 

She  stop  her  singin',  sho', 
An'  ef  I  ax  ter  he'p  her  some 

She  tap  me  wid  her  hoe. 

Oh,  Miss  Sally-gal,  doan'  you  year  me  cry, 
Doan'  you  year  me  mo'nin'  an'  doan'  you  year  me  sigh? 
Oh,  come  erlong,  Miss  Sally-gal,  an*  wipe  my  weepin'  eye, 
Got  such  mis'ry  uv  de  heart  Fse  'feard  I  gwineter  die. 

Sally-gal,  you  done  treat  me  so, 

My  heart  plum'  bus'  in  two, 
Kain't  hang  roun'  dis  place  no  mo', 

I  says  far'well  ter  you. 
Doan'  weep  w'en  I  is  daid  an*  gone, 

Doan'  mo'n  an'  call  me  back — 
Dat  gal  she  cryin'  sho'  'z  yo'  bawn ! 

Lawd !  how  dese  wimmins  ac' ! 

Oh,  Miss  Sally-gal,  please  ma'am,  doan'  you  cry, 
Bus's  my  heart  clean  open  ter  year  you  mo'n  an'  sigh, 
Oh,  come  erlong,  li'l  Sally-gal,  an'  lemme  wipe  yo'  eye, 
Got  sech  shoutin'  in  my  heart  I'se  'feard  I  gwineter  die. 

21 


WITH    THE    SPINNING    LESSON 

DAR'S  nuttin'  lak  de  ol'-time  ways, 
I  tell  you  dem  ol'  days  wuz  days! 
Wen  gals  wuz  larnt  ter  do  de  spinnin' 
Uv  cotton-yarn  an'  wool  an'  linen, 
An'  any  day  you'd  come  down  yer 
You'd  year  de  wheels  jes'  buzz  an'  burr, 
F'um  sun-up  'twel  de  dark'z  beginnin'. 

Dem  times  wuz  busy  times,  I  'clar', 
'Kase  all  we  had  ter  eat  an'  wear 

Wuz  made  right  yer  on  dis  plantation, 

Hit  sut'n'y  jes'  beat  all  creation ! 

We  spinned  an'  dyed  an'  weabed  an'  knit, 
An'  tu'ned  out  gyarmints  dat  wuz  fit 

Fer  any  pusson  in  dis  nation. 


22 


Dar  s  nuttin'  lak  de  ol'-time  ways 


WITH    THE    SPINNING    LESSON 

De  linsey-woolsey  fer  ow'  dress, 
De  cas'net  clof  fer  Marster's  bes', 
De  cotton-clof,  de  linen  beddin', 
Silk  stockin's  fer  young  Miss's  wedding 
An'  shoes  dat  'z  binded  in  an'  out, 
All  dem  we  made  right  good  an'  stout, 
Dem  times  dat  I  wuz  bawned  an'  bred  in. 

De  weabin'-house  wuz  'crost  de  way, 
Two  looms  wuz  runnin'  all  de  day, 

Dey  had  good  han's  at  shuttle-th'owin', 

An'  any  sort  er  pattern  goin', 

De  "huckle-back,"  de  "snow-drap  spot," 
"Pine-apple,"  "Tennessee  bow-knot," 

Dey'd  run  hit  off  befo'  you'z  knowin'. 

I  wish  dem  times  'ud  come  onct  mo', 

Dese  days  de  gals  jes'  come  an'  go 
A-spo'tin'  sto'-cloes,  gigglin',  grinning 
I  tells  you  w'at,  dey  am'  beginnin' 

Ter  do  lak  we-all  in  de  pas', 

Wen  wu'k  come  fus'  an'  play  come  las' 
An'  gals  all  tuck  a  tu'n  at  spinnin'. 


LINDY,  COME  ERLONG 
(PLANTATION  SERENADE) 

WEN  de  sun  roll  in  an'  de  moon  roll  out 
An'  de  li'l  yaller  stars  git  sprinkl't  all  erbout, 
Den  I  listens  fer  my  honey  an'  I  calls  her  an'  I  shout, 
"O  Lindy,  Lindy,  Lindy,  O  my  Lindy ! 
O  Lindy,  come  erlong 
An'  listen  at  my  song ; 
De  mockin'-bu'd  is  singin'  ter  his  honey, 
Come,  lemme  sing  ter  you 
An'  tell  you,  tell  you  true 
Dat  I  loves  you  mo'  dan  heaps  er  silver  money." 

26 


LINDY,   COME   ERLONG 

Wen  de  win'  blow  sof  an'  de  leaves  keep  still, 
Listenin'  in  de  darkness  ter  de  lonesome  whippo'will, 
Den  I  tecks  my  banjer  wid  me  an'  I  calls  her  down  de  hill, 
"O  Lindy,  Lindy,  Lindy,  O  my  Lindy! 
O  Lindy,  come  erlong 
An'  listen  at  my  song ; 
De  whippo'will  is  pinin'  fer  his  honey, 
An'  so  I  pines  fer  you, 
Fer  I  tells  you,  tells  you  true 
Dat  I  loves  you  mo'  dan  heaps  er  silver  money." 

Wen  de  tree-toads  call  an'  de  crickits  sing 
An'  de  katydids  is  'sputin'  'bout  some  li'l  no-kyoun'  thing, 
Den  I  calls  her  an'  I  calls  her,  'twel  I  mek  de  pine-woods 
ring, 

"O  Lindy,  Lindy,  Lindy,  O  my  Lindy ! 
O  Lindy,  come  erlong 
An'  listen  at  my  song ; 
De  katydid  is  'sputin'  wid  his  honey, 
Come,  lemme  'spute  wid  you 
'Bout  ef  I  doan'  er  do 
Love  you  better  dan  a  heap  er  silver  money." 


27 


DE    STUM'LIN'-BLOCK 

You  chillen  done  kotched  in  de  ac',  fer  sho' ! 
You  mus'n'  hook  milyuns  dis  way  no  mo', 
Hit's  a  monst'ous  sin !  Lemme  jes'  set  down 
An'  tell  how  de  milyun  wuz  fustes'  foun', — 
Ez  long'z  hit's  dar  you  kin  gimme  dat  haff, — 
I  boun'  you  de  story  gwine  stop  dat  laff ! 

De  debil  went  studyin'  'long  one  day, 
"Mister  Darky  bin  gittin1  too  good,"  he  say, 
"Done  temp'  him  in  vain  wid  a  nice  ham-hock, 
Mus'  fin'  some  new  kind  er  stum'lin'-block." 
So  he  laid  a  ripe  milyun  acrost  de  paff, 
An'  hid  in  de  bushes  an'  laff  an'  laff. 


28 


DE    STUM  LIN  -BLOCK 

De  darky  ain'  notussin'  whar  he  goes 
Twel  de  milyun-vine  done  tankle  his  toes, 
Den  he  fall  right  down  wid  a  monst'ous  shock 
An'  bus'  Mister  Debil's  new  stum'lin'-block. 
De  debil  lay  low  at  de  side  er  de  paff 
An'  he  am'  say  nuttin',  jes'  laff  an'  laff. 

De  darky  he  ses  ter  hisse'f,  "My  law ! 
Yer's  de  pooties5  sight  dat  uver  I  saw !" 
He  et  hit  all  ter  de  plum'  green  rin', 
Den  up  riz  de  debil  an'  ses,  "Youse  mine !" 
Wid  tail  a-switchin'  an'  lashin'  de  paff, 
Wiles  he  grin  an'  he  grin  an'  he  laff  an'  laff. 

Ses  de  darky,  "Youse  debilish  mean,  Tse  yeard, 
But  I  nuver  half  b'lieve  hit,  upun  my  wu'd, 
Dis  look  mos'  too  mean,  suh,  eben  fer  you, 
'Kase  you  knows  dat  milyun  wuz  bus'  in  two." 
Den  de  debil  flewed  off  wid  a  howl  er  wraff 
An'  de  darky  he  sot  an'  he  laff  an'  laff. 

Sence  den,  no  darky  wuz  uver  known 
Ter  teck  a  milyun  whar  wan't  his  own 
Widout  he  claim,  lak  de  one  at  fus', 
He  tucken  de  milyun  bekase  hit  bus' ; 
An'  de  debil  slinks  'long  in  de  darky's  paff, 
An'  he  ain'  say  nuttin',  jes'  laff  an'  laff. 
29 


KNOCKIN'    DE    'RANG-A-TANG 

SUMMERTIME  do  ve'y  well, 

I  ain't  gwineter  'spute  hit, 
Winter  dat's  my  fav'ite  spell, 

Suits  me  an'  I  suit  hit. 
Plowin's  over,  hoein's  done, 
Chris'mus  brings  us  lots  er  fun, 
Den  we  meets  up  ev'y  one, 
A  happy,  singin',  laffin'  gang, 
An'  den  we  knocks  de  'rang-a-tang, 
We  knocks  de  'rang-a-tang. 

30 


Dough  de  cabin  mighty  small, 
Room  fer  ev'v  z^mer 


KNOCKIN     DE     RANG-A-TANG 

Dough  de  cabin  mighty  small, 

Room  fer  ev'y  comer, 
Dar  we  darnses  one  an'  all, 

Lawdy!  beats  de  summer! 
Lightwood  fire  blazin'  bright 
Meks  de  place  all  warm  an'  light, 
Darkies  darnse  wid  all  dey  might, 
A  happy,  singin',  laffin'  gang, 
Hit's  den  we  knocks  de  'rang-a-tang, 

We  knocks  de  'rang-a-tang. 

Lif '  yo'  right  foot,  lif '  yo'  lef ' , 
Plant  yo'  heels  down  fairly, 
Doan'  you  stop  ter  git  yo'  bref, 

Knock  de  time,  suh,  squarely ! 
Banjer  talkin',  fiddle,  too, 
Supper  waitin'  w'en  youse  thu, 
I  doan'  wan'  no  mo',  does  you  ? 
Come  jine  dis  singin',  laffin'  gang, 
An'  he'p  us  knock  de  'rang-a-tang, 
He'p  knock  de  'rang-a-tang. 


33 


COMIN'    THU 

YER'S  a  sinner  comin'  thu, 
Crowd  roun',  bre'ren,  sisters,  too, 
Sing  wid  all  yo'  might  an'  main, 
He'p  de  sinner  out  er  pain, 
He's  comin',  comin'  thu. 

He  bin  "seekin'  "  dis  long  time, 
He'p  him  cas'  de  foe  behime, 
Clap  yo'  ban's  an'  sing  an'  shout, 
He'p  him  cas'  de  debil  out, 

Le's  wrassel  him  right  thu. 


34 


Tu'rr  side  de  Gate  er  Sin, 
Year  him  kickin'  ter  git  in, 
Putt  up  prayers  wid  might  an'  main, 
Dat  he  doesn'  kick  in  vain, 
Y'all  kin  pray  him  thu. 

Heart  a-bus'in'  fer  de  right, 
Debil  hol'in'  to  him  tight, 
Year  him  swish  dat  forked  tail, 
See  de  sinner-man  turn  pale, 
Come  on  an'  he'p  him  thu. 

Sinner  hangin'  'bove  de  pit, 
By  a  hya'r  strotch  over  hit, 
Debil  hoi'  one  eend  an'  shake, 
Y'all  kin  see  de  sinner  quake, 

Quick,  he'p  dis  man  come  thu. 

Seize  de  ropes,  now,  ev'y  man, 
He'p  de  gospel  ship  ter  Ian', 
One  long  pull  an'  one  gre't  shout, 
Hallelu  !   We  got  him  out, 

De  sinner  done  come  thu ! 


35 


A    TOAST 

OH,  Chris'mus,  Chris'mus,  dat's  de  time, 
Wen  you  year  dem  glasses  chink  an'  chime, 
An'  de  boys  dey  drinks  de  toas'es  down 
Ter  all  de  pooty  ladiz  dat's  in  dis  town. 

Sing  hi,  sing  ho, 

Now  doan'  say  no, 
You  mus'  drink  ter  de  pooties'  ladiz. 

Dis  one  he'll  drink  ter  de  gal  whar  fat, 
An'  tu'rrs  dey'll  up  an'  laff  at  dat ; 
Dat  one  he'll  drink  ter  de  gal  whar  thin, 
Wid  de  hatchet  face  an'  de  p'inted  chin ; 

Sing  hi,  sing  ho, 

But  he  dunno 
Dat  she  ain'  jes'  de  pooties'  lady. 


A    TOAST 

Dis  one  he'll  drink  ter  gal  whar  tall, 
Dat  one  '11  drink  ter  de  gal  whar  small ; 
An'  one  '11  drink  ter  de  gal  whar  kin'. 
An'  one  ter  de  gal  whar  meks  him  min' ! 
Sing  hi,  sing  ho, 
Each  think  he  know 
Dat  he  drink  ter  de  pooties'  lady. 

Now  I  ain'  sayin'  no  name  a-tall 
Wen  dey  drinks  ter  dey  ladiz  gre't  an'  small., 
But  I  lif's  my  glass  an'  I  drinks  dis  teas', 
"Ter  de  li'l  honey-gal  w'at  loves  me  de  mos' !" 

Sing  ho,  sing  hi, 

Now  dat's  jes'  w'y 
I  think  she's  de  pooties'  lady. 

But  de  gals  so  pleasin',  shawt  er  tall, 
Dat  I  'clar'  we  boun'  ter  teas'  'em  all ! 
So  fill  yo'  glasses,  jes'  one  mo'  roun', 
Ter  all  de  pooty  ladiz  dat's  in  dis  town. 

Sing  hi,  sing  ho, 

Now  doan'  say  no, 
You  mus'  drink  ter  de  chawmerin'  ladiz. 


37 


PLOWIN'   TIME 

WINTER  goin' ! 
How  I  tell? 

See  dem  buds  begin  ter  swell, 
Year  dem  birds  a  chu'pin'  so, — 
An'  you  ax  me  how  I  know  ? 

Willers  greenin' 

By  de  run, 

Grass-blades  soakin'  up  de  sun, 
Warm  smells  risin'  f'um  de  groun' 
Almos'  lak  dey  mek  a  soun'. 

"Tu'n  me  over," 

So  dey  say, 

"Sun  an'  air,  suh,  dat's  de  way, 
Den  you'll  see  all  summer  thu 
Jes'  w'at  I  kin  do  fer  you." 


PLOWIN     TIME 

Hitch  my  oxes 
To  de  plow, 

Dat's  a  team,  I  tell  you  now ! 
Chillen  follers  wid  me,  too, 
Wants  ter  do  jes'  w'at  I  do. 

Boy  he  sclutches 

On  my  whip, 

Gal  she  run  'long  side  an'  trip 
Now  an'  den  an'  fall,  but  sho ! 
Nuver  lets  my  coat-tail  go. 

Dis  my  ox-team, 

Dis  my  Ian', 

'Arnt  hit  all  wid  dish  yer  han' ; 
Meks  a  darky  feel  real  sma't 
Gittin'  sech  a  right  good  sta't. 

All  de  darkies, 

Ef  dey  would, 

Mought  do  lakwise,  knows  dey  could, 
Dis  de  best  thing  in  ow'  reach, 
'Kase  we  kain't  all  teach  an'  preach. 


Gimme  country, 

Gimme  air, 
Kiel's  all  mois'  an'  warm  an'  bare 

Waitin'  fer  de  crap  uv  cawn 
Wen  de  winter's  up  an'  gone. 

Crow  dis  mawnin' 
Woked  me  soon, 
Cawin',  jawin',  sassy  loon! 
He's  one  thief !  now  ain'  hit  queer 
How  he  knows  dat  plantin's  near  ? 

Spring's  a-comin' ! 

How  I  know? 
Ev'ything  done  tell  me  so. 
'Sides  dat,  sumpin  say  in  me, 
"Spring's  a-comin',  yas  sirreeP 


42 


TEN'ENCE 

HE  wuz  de  on'ies'  boy  I  uver  had, 

An'  w'en  he's  bawned  I  felt  dat  proud  an'  glad 

Seem  lak  I  cudden  fin'  no  name  a-tall 

Dat's  good  enuff  my  baby  boy  ter  call. 

Now  jes'  'bout  den  us  darkies  got  de  wu'd 

Dat  Mister  Linkum  he  done  'clar'd  us  free, — 

I  shouted  w'en  dat  ]'yiu\  news  I  yeard, 

"Bress  Gawd,  dis  am'  a  slave  dat's  bawn  ter  me ! 

I'se  gwineter  call  dis  chile,  you  year  me  say, 

'Mancipation  Proclamation  Innepen'ence  Day !" 


43 


PEN  ENCE 

My  man  sezee :   "Want  smuzzer  dat  young  chile, 
Dat  sech  a  name  ez  dat  you  go  an'  pile 
On  top  er  him  ?  I'se  'feard  you  stunt  he  growt' 
By  ginin'  him  dat  haivy  name  ter  tote." 
S'l,  "See  dat  baby  kick  an'  year  him  crow ! 
A  chile  dat  smart  is  sho'  ter  grow  lak  fun, 
An'  I'se  jes'  boun'  dat  he  shell  rightly  know 
De  gre't  deed  Mister  Linkum  fer  him  done : 
Darfo'  I  calls  him,  ez  befo'  I  say, 
'Mancipation  Proclamation  Innepen'ence  Day." 

I  ain'  bin  saw'y  dat  I  name  him  so. 

"Jaw-crackin'  "  some  folks  called  hit,  but  you  know 

Fer  shawt  we  called  him  Ten'ence  all  de  week, 

'Cept  Sundays.  You'd  jes'  laff  ter  year  him  speak 

Wen  dress  up  in  he  li'l  trowserloons 

An'  trottin'  by  ter  meetin'  'long  wid  me, 

We'd  meet  one  dese  yer  'pawtant  yaller  coons, 

Dey'd  ax,  "W'at  name  yo'  li'l  boy  mought  be?" 

He'd  dror  hisse'f  up  proud  ez  sin  an'  say, 

"I'se  'Mancipation  Proclamation  Innepen'ence  Day." 


44 


'PEN'ENCE 

But  somehow  "  'Pen'ence"  seem  ter  suit  dat  chile. 

He  alluz  done  my  biddin'  wid  a  smile, 

An'  nuver  tol'  no  whoppin'  lies  a-tall, 

Dough  now  an'  den  he'd  tell  one  dese  yer  small 

Comfrabercashuns  dat  dey  calls  white  lies, — 

Atter  de  white  folks,  wudden  be  suppriz' — 

An'  seein'  him  dat  stiddy-lak  an'  true, 

We  come  ter  place  ow'  'pen'ence  on  dat  boy, 

So  'Pen'ence  wuz  he  name,  'cept  w'en  he'd  do 

Sump'n  er  u'rr  dat  'ud  kind  er  'noy, — 

De  bes'  er  chillen  does  dat, — den  I'd  say 

"You!  'Mancipation  Proclamation  Innepen'ence  Day!" 

My  man  he  died,  an'  ev'ything  went  wrong, 
I  had  hard  wu'k  sometimes  ter  git  erlong, 
But  bringed  my  chile  up  'spectable,  an'  he 
W'en  he  wuz  growed  tuck  fus'  class  kyare  er  me. 
He  wuz  de  po'ter  on  a  baid-room  kyar, 
One  dese  wid  baids  hid  som'ers  over  haid 
Raidy  ter  spring  up  on  de  slightes'  jar 
At  night,  an'  smash  you  flat,  I've  yeard  hit  said. 
S'l,  "Doan'  spec'  yo'  maw  ter  ride  dat-a-way, 
'Mancipation  Proclamation  Innepen'ence  Day !" 


45 


PEN  ENCE 

One  time  he  train  wuz  in  a  axerdent, 

De  kyars  kotched  fire  an'  my  boy  he  went 

Back  in  he  kyar  w'en  all  de  folks  wuz  gone, 

Bekase  he  yeard  a  lady  kyar'yin'  on 

An'  cryin'  "Oh,  my  baby's  lef !   Oh,  do 

Somebody,  go  an'  git  my  baby  out !" 

He  broke  a  pane  an'  passed  de  baby  thu, 

"De  li'l  baby's  safe !"  dey  yeard  him  shout, 

An'  dem  wuz  de  las'  wu'ds  dat  he  uver  say, 

My  'Mancipation  Proclamation  Innepen'ence  Day! 

O  'Pen'ence  !  Ten'ence  !  onlies'  boy  I  uver  had ! 
Dat  nuver  made  me  anything  but  glad 
An'  happy  w'ile  you  lived  on  top  dis  yearf 
Sence  dat  proud  mawnin'  dat  I  gin  you  birf ! 
You  dat  I  thought  gwine  be  my  stay  an'  prop ! 
How  could  you  go  on  an'  leave  me  yer  alone  ? 
O  Lawd,  dear  Lawd,  how  long  I  gotter  stop 
Widout  no  one  ter  place  my  'pen'ence  on  ? — 
An'  yit,  O  'Pen'ence,  year  yo'  po'  ol'  mammy  cry, 
You  done  jes'  right !  you  cudden  let  dat  baby  die ! 


LISTENING  TO  THE  ACCORDION 

LISTEN  at  de  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum! 
Hit  boun'  ter  mek  yo'  footses  go 
No  marter  ef  you  wants  er  no, 
Yo'  footses  somehow  turns  a-loose, 
I'se  seed  chu'ch-members  ac'  de  goose, 
Hit  meks  us  chillen  late  f 'um  school 
An'  mommer  say  we  play  de  fool 
'Bout  de  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum. 

47 


LISTENING   TO   THE   ACCORDION 

Listen  at  cle  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum! 
I  wanster  play  de  'corjum,  too, 
Lak  Billy  Johnny  Simpson  do, 
Jes'  see  de  way  he  fingers  fly 
Acrost  dem  shiny  keys,  oh  my ! 
He  arms  wu'k  in  an'  out  jes'  so, 
An'  how  he  do  dat  I  dunno 

Wid  de  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum. 

Listen  at  de  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum! 
One  minute  she  swell  out  lak  dat, 
Nex'  news  you  know  she  gone  plum'  flat, 
Dat  how  dey  squeege  de  music  out. 
Hit's  handy  fer  ter  teck  erbout, 
A  li'l  box  dat's  flat  an'  thin 
Ontwel  hit  gits  fill'-up  wid  win', 
Dat's  de  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum. 

I  wants  me  a  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum! 
I  got  a  li'l  savin'-bank, 
Kin  year  de  money  clink  an'  clank, 
I  spec'  I  done  save  mos'  a  dime ! 
I  gwineter  teck  hit  all  some  time 
An'  buy  a  'corjum,  1'arn  ter  play, 
An'  beat  dat  Billy  John  some  day 
On  de  'corjum,  'corjum,  'corjum. 


DE    SONG   ER    DE    'SKEETER 

LI'L  'skeeter  went  out  ter  serenade, 

(M-hm) 
He  skipped  thu  de  air  w'ile  he  sung  an'  he  played, 

(M-hm) 

He  played  on  his  guittar,  de  sassy  li'l  critter, 
An'  dish  yer  de  song  w'at  he  made : 
"Fse  champ'n  light-weight  uv  dis  town, 

(M-hm) 
I  dror's  blood  de  fustes'  roun', 

(M-hm) 

I  doesn'  go  by  de  rules  er  fightin', 
Whips  out  my  raazor  an'  den  I  lights  in 
An'  gits  dar  wid  bofe  footses  ev'y  time." 


DE    SONG    ER   DE    'SKEETER 

Li'l  'skeeter  he  spied  Miss  Susy's  lip, 

(M-hm) 
He  say,  "I'se  'bleeged  fer  ter  have  a  sip ;" 

(M-hm) 

He  up  an'  he  bit  her,  she  slap  at  de  critter, 
An'  'skeeter  sung  out  ez  he  skip : 
"Oh,  I'se  de  masher  uv  dis  town, 

(M-hm) 
I  follers  de  ladiz  roun'  an'  roun', 

(M-hm) 

Oh,  I  is  a  man  er  de  fines'  tas'e,  suh, 
Kiss  all  de  pooties'  gals  in  de  place,  suh, 
An'  gits  dar  wid  bofe  footses  ev'y  time." 

Sez  I,  "No  gemman  'ud  steal  a  kiss, 

(Huh-uh) 

I  'oon  widout  you  sesso,  miss," 

(Huh-uh) 

Miss  Susy  she  titter,  an'  tell  me  ter  quit  her, 
An'  'skeeter  sung  out  ter  me  dis, 
"Oh,  youse  de  big  fool  uv  dis  town, 

You  is, 
All  de  gals  gwine  tu'n  you  down, 

Dey  is, 

De  man  whar  ax  fer  'em  dot  n'  git  kisses, 
De  man  whar  tecks  'em  he  nuver  misses, 
He  gits  dar  wid  bofe  footses  ev'y  time." 
52 


GO    LIGHTLY,    GAL 

(THE  CAKE-WALK) 

SWEETES'  li'l  honey  in  all  dis  Ian', 
Come  erlong  yer  an'  gimme  yo'  han', 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 
Cawn  all  shucked  an'  de  barn  flo'  clear, 
Come  erlong,  come  erlong,  come  erlong,  my  dear, 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 

Fiddles  dey  callin'  us  high  an'  fine, 
"Time  fer  de  darnsin',  come  an'  jine," 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 
My  pooty  li'l  honey,  but  you  is  sweet ! 
An'  hit's  clap  yo'  han's  an'  shake  yo'  feet, 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 


53 


GO  LIGHTLY,   GAL 

Hit's  cut  yo'  capers  all  down  de  line, 
Den  mek  yo'  manners  an'  tiptoe  fine, 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 
Oh,  hit's  whu'll  yo'  pardners  rotm'  an'  roun', 
Twel  you  hyst  dey  feet  clean  off  de  groun', 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 

Oh,  hit's  tu'n  an'  twis'  all  roun'  de  flo', 
Fling  out  yo'  feet  behime,  befo', 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 
Gre't  Lan'  o'  Goshen !  but  you  is  spry ! 
Kain't  none  er  de  urr  gals  spring  so  high, 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 

Oh,  roll  yo'  eyes  an'  wag  yo'  haid 

An'  shake  yo'  bones  twel  you  nigh  most  daid, 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 
Doan'  talk  ter  me  'bout  gittin'  yo'  bref, 
Gwine  darnse  dis  out  ef  hit  cause  my  def ! 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 


54 


GO  LIGHTLY,   GAL 

Um-humph !  done  darnse  all  de  urr  folks  down ! 
Skip  erlong,  honey,  jes'  one  mo'  roun' ! 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 
Fiddles  done  played  twel  de  strings  all  break ! 
Come  erlong,  honey,  jes'  one  mo'  shake, 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 

Now  teck  my  arm  an'  perawd  all  roun', 

So  dey  see  whar  de  sho'-nuff  darnsers  foun', 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 
Den  gimme  yo'  han'  an'  we  quit  dish  yer, 
Come  erlong,  come  erlong,  come  erlong,  my  dear, 

Go  lightly,  gal,  go  lightly ! 


55 


JES'    LOOKIN'    ON 

FSE  got  sech  a  mis'ry  in  my  side 
Dat  hit  hu'ts  ter  walk  an'  hit  hu'ts  ter  ride, 
An'  hit  hu'ts  ter  set  an'  hit  hu'ts  ter  stair 
An'  hit  hu'ts  jes'  ev'y  las'  way  hit  can. 
An'  ez  fer  de  mis'ry  in  my  back, 
Nair  a  minute  dat  dat  doan'  rack. 
My  laigs  dey  ache  me  so  scan'lous  bad 
I  wish  dey  wuz  wooden  paigs  I  had. 
Dey  ain'  a  bit  er  my  flaish  er  bone 
Whar  ain'  got  a  mis'ry  all  hits  own 
Wid  li'l  mean  aches  strowed  in  between, — 
Now  dat's  w'at  de  rheumatiz  done  mean. 


Dey  ain'  had  de  raisin'  dat  I  done  got 


JES'     LOOKIN      ON 

I  kain't  see  rightly  widout  my  specs, 

Done  fergitted  mo'  dan  I  recollec's, 

An'  my  yearin'  's  bad  an'  I'se  ol'  an'  po', 

An'  I  ain'  got  no  kinry  lef  no  mo'. 

But  I  ain'  fergitted  my  white-folks  yit 

Ner  de  'spectable  raisin'  dat  I  done  git. 

Dey  1'arnt  me  my  manners,  bowin'  low 

An'  scrapin'  out  wid  my  foot,  jes'  so, 

An'  dey  gin  me  'ligious  destruction,  too, 

An'  dey  1'arn  me  'bout  ev'ything  I  knew. 

Some  er  dis  wufless  young  cullud  trash 

Dey  calls  me  "Uncle"  an  ac's  real  brash, 

Jes'  laffin'  behime  my  back  lak  sin, 

'Kase  I  bin  a  slave  an'  dey  ain'  bin. 

I  ru'rr  bin  bonded  my  natchel  days 

Dan  ter  ac'  in  sech  no-kyount,  trashy  ways. 

I  reckon  hit's  well  we  wuz  all  set  free, 

I  s'pose  dat's  de  way  folks  wuz  meant  ter  be, 

But  I  kain't  see  w'y  dey's  no  manners  lef 

Jes'  'kase  dey  happens  ter  own  deyse'f. 

I  dunno  rightly  how  ol'  I  is, 

Hit  mought  be  eighty,  I  reckon  'tis, 

Yit  I  nuver  gone  now'ers,  I  tells  you  true, 

But  I  tucken  my  manners  an'  breedin',  too. 


59 


JES      LOOKIN      ON 

Dem  sassy  young  niggers,  dey  plum'  disgrace 

De  res'  uv  de  'spectable  cullud  race. 

Dey  got  dey  books,  dey  kin  read  an'  write, 

But  dey  dunno  'nough  fer  to  be  perlite. 

I  kain't  see  how  dey  gwine  git  erlong, 

Hit  seem  lak  sump'n  have  done  gone  wrong. 

I  gits  wo'  out  wid  'em,  dat's  de  fac', 

But  I  orter  mek  'lowance  fer  how  dey  ac', 

'Kase  de  times  an'  de  doin's  is  change  a  lot, 

An'  dey  ain'  had  de  raisin'  dat  I  done  got. 

Dar's  nuttin'  lef  me  but  lookin'  on 

Twel  me  an'  de  ol'-time  ways  is  gone. 


60 


QUIT    DAT    PLAYIN'    'POSSUM 

A    LULLABY 

QUIT  dat  playin'  'possum, 

I  sees  dem  eyeleds  peep ! 
Spec's  ter  fool  yo'  mammy 
P'tendin'  youse  ersleep. 
Sma'tes'  li'l  baby  dat  uver  drord  a  bref, 
Try  ter  fool  he  mammy,  he  gwine  git  sho'-nuff  lef' 
'Possum,  'possum,  'possum  mighty  sly, 
'Possum,  'possum,  I  sees  you  blink  dat  eye. 
Bye-o,  bye-o,  baby, 

'Possum  mighty  sly, 
Bye-o,  bye-o,  baby, 
Bye-o,  bye-o-bye. 

61 


QUIT   DAT    PLAYIN       POSSUM 

Quit  dat  playin'  'possum, 

You  torn-down  li'l  chap, 
Cotter  min'  yo'  mammy 

An'  teck  a  li'l  nap. 

Sweetes'  li'l  baby  dat  uver  drord  a  bref, 
Mammy  knowed  her  honey  wuz  gwineter  'have  hisse'f. 
'Possum,  'possum,  sleepin'  mighty  soun', 
'Possum,  'possum,  gwineter  lay  him  down. 
Bye-o,  bye-o,  baby, 

Lay  de  'possum  low, 
Bye-o,  bye-o,  baby, 
Bye-o-bye,  bye-o. 

Lawd!  he  jes'  play  'possum, 
An'  projeck  wid  me,  sho'! 
Dat's  a  trick  ter  mek  me 
Set  an'  rock  him  mo'. 
Sma'tes'  li'l  baby  dat  uver  drord  a  bref, 
Wanster  stay  wid  mammy,  he  boun'  he  won'  be  lef. 
'Possum,  'possum,  mammy  love  you  true, 
'Possum,  'possum,  yas  indeed  she  do ! 
Bye-o,  bye-o,  baby, 

Dough  dis  'possum's  sly, 
Mammy's  gotter  love  him, 
Bye-o,  bye-o-bye. 
62 


CHRIS'MAS    COMIN5 

CHRISTMAS  hit's  a-comin' ! 
Doan'  you  year  me  now  ? 
White  folks  cuts  no  figger 
Dese  times,  'side  de  nigger, 
Chris'mas  made  on  puppus  fer  de  darkies,  anyhow, 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin' ! 
No  mo'  wu'k  a  w'ile, 
Gwineter  be  dat  lazy 
Drive  de  boss  mos'  crazy, 
Chris'mas-week, — no  use  a-tall  ter  hurry  up  dis  chile. 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin' ! 
Den  de  fun  begins, 
Pile  de  logs  up  higher, 
Nuttin'  lak  a  fire, 
Darky  pow'ful  happy  w'en  he  toas'in'  uv  he  shins. 


CHRIS'MAS  COMIN' 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin' ! 
Be  yer  mighty  soon, 
Retch  de  ol'  gun  down,  den, 
Lemme  chase  erroun',  den, 
Chris'mas  won'  be  Chris'mas-time  widout  a  tas'e  er  coon. 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin' ! 
Fotch  de  ol'  jug  out, 
Apple-jack  ter  fill  hit, 
Hawg-meat  in  de  skillet, 
Darky  git  so  happy  dat  he  hatter  sing  an'  shout. 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin'! 
Git  up  fo'  hit's  light, 
Fin'  mos'  folks  a-nappin', 
'Fo'  dey  know  w'at  happen, 

Kotch  dey  presents,  shoutin'  "Chris'mas-gif  "  wid  all  my 
might. 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin' ! 
Li'l  gal  I  know 
Thu  de  pine-woods  yonner 
Gwine  git  all  I  squan'er 

On  dese  Chris'mas  doiri's,  an'  I  wish  'twuz  heap  sight 
mo'! 


64 


CHRIS  MAS    COMIN 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin' ! 
Rozzum  up  de  bow  ! 
Footses  dat  onsteady 
Dat  I'se  'feard  a'ready 
Gwineter  lose  de  'ligion  dat  I  got  las'  Augus',  sho'. 

Chris'mas  hit's  a-comin' ! 
Darkies  am'  de  same! 
Chris'mas  in  de  bones,  den, 
Ef  dey  fairly  hones,  den, 
Per  ongawdly  doin's,  hit's  jes'  Chris'mas  dat's  ter  blame! 


THE    TURKEY-DREAM* 

MANDY'S  in  a  tukkey-dream, 

Hi  dar,  Mandy !  you-dar  ! 
— Gal  doan'  even  year  me  scream — 

Time  you'z  gittin'  thu  dar ! 
Yeard  de  chu'n  a  hour  ergo, 

Dashin',  splishin',  splashing 
Gittin'  all  de  time  mo'  slow 

'Twel  hit  stop,  so-fashion. 
Mandy !  Mandy !  w'at  you  mean  ? 
Is  you  los'  yo'  senses  clean  ? 

*  "Tukkey-dream"  is  a  negro  equivalent  for  "day-dream, 
66 


Mandy's  in  a  tukkey-dream 


THE  TURKEY-DREAM 

Kittle  empty,  fire  out, 

All  de  wu'k  a-waitin', 
Mandy,  Mandy,  w'at  you  'bout? 

See  dat  cat  piratin' ! 
Jinks,  ter  ketch  you  roguin'  drives 

'Straction  thu  an'  thu  me ! 
Kyountin'  on  dem  ol'  nine  lives 

Fer  ter  up  an'  do  me  ? 
Jes'  you  tetch  anu'rr  sip, 
Lose  'em  all  at  one  big  clip ! 

Mandy's  haid  is  in  de  clouds, 

Eyes  far-offly  rollin', 
Yit  I  boun'  dey  ain'  see  crowds, 

Room  fer  jes'  one  soul  in. 
Ef  de  butter  come  er  no 

Wat  dat  Mandy  kyarin'  ? 
Studyin'  'bout  her  trashy  beau, 

Wid  her  haid  a-rarin'. 
Nuttin'  lak  a  beau,  hit  seems, 
Mek  dese  gals  dream  tukkey-dreams. 


THE  TURKEY-DREAM 

Gal,  now  listen  ter  yo'  maw, 

— Jinks,  you  stop  dat  mewin'— 
Dish  yer  is  a  sho'-'nuff  law, 

Folks  mus'  keep  a-doin', 
Else  deir  butter  am'  gwine  come, 

Nuttin'  else  dey's  atter ; 
'Sides,  you  orter  1'arn  dis,  too, 

— N center  laugh  !  no  matter — 
Wiles  you  dream  yo'  tukkey-dream 
Some  'un  else  gwine  lap  de  cream. 


SUNDAY    FISHIN' 

STOP  de  janglin'  uv  dat  bell, 
Deacon  Swif ',  you  mought  ez  well ; 
Close  de  books,  putt  out  de  light, 
Be  no  preachin'  yer  dis  night ; 
Come  ter  tell  you,  wid  p'mission 
Dat  de  preacher  gone  a-fishin'. 

Saw  him  at  de  ten-mile  dam, 
Settin'  dar  ez  cool  an'  ca'm, 
Waitin'  fer  de  fish  ter  bite, 
Eben  den  'twuz  nigh  mos'  night, 
Bait  in  mouf  an'  pole  a-swishin', 
Dar  de  preacher  sot  a-fishin'. 


SUNDAY     FISHIN 

Shucks !   He  done  forgot  dis  flock ! 
I  crope  up  behime  de  rock, 
Saw  him  w'en  he  bruck  his  line, 
Yeard  him  say  some  wu'ds — nemmine, 
Preachers  mighty  nigh  perdishin 
W'en  dey  quits  an'  goes  a-fishin'. 

Doan'  corndem  de  man,  I  say, 
Mebbe  Peter  felt  dat  way, 
Tired  sometimes  er  fishin'  souls, 
Longin'  fer  he  nets  an'  poles ; 
I  kain't  he'p  a  kind  er  s'pishin 
Dat  he  honed  ter  go  a-fishin'. 

W'en  de  Sunday  nice  an'  fine, 
Ain'  you  nuver  cas'  yo'  line  ? 
Fishes  ap'  ter  bite,  some  ways, 
Better  den  dan  on  week-days ; 
Dem  whar  bin- in  dat  p'sishin 
Kain't  be  hard  on  Sunday  fishin'. 

Wrassel  fer  de  man  in  prayer  ? 
So  be,  bre'ren,  I  doan'  kyare, 
On'y,  add  a  prayer  fer  all 
Dem  dat  blames  de  preacher's  fall ; 
Call  down  grace  fer  us  whar  wishin' 
Dat,  lak  him,  we'd  gone  a-fishin'. 
72 


MY    LI'L    GAL    DONE    GOT    A    BEAU 

MY  li'l  gal  done  got  a  beau ! 

Dasso ! 

Dat  young  rapscalyun  hangin'  roun' 
Yer  uver  sence  he  strike  dis  town, 
But  dat  not  bodder  me  a-tall, 
I  thought,  "She  jes'  a  chile,  dat's  all." 

But  sho' ! 
She  big  enuff  ter  git -a  beau ! 

I  didn'  eben  s'pishin  dem 
Wen  she  let  down  her  dress's  hem, 
An'  fixed  her  hya'r  de  growed-up  way, 
An'  wo'  raid  ribunds  ev'y  day, 

But  sho'! 
Dat  gal  she  fix  ter  ketch  a  beau. 

73 


MY  LI'L  GAL  DONE  GOT  A  BEAU 

I  orter  seed  right  thu  hit  all 

When  she  lef '  off  a-playin'  doll ; 

De  dolls  dey  kain't  love  back,  you  know, 

An'  dressin'  dem  hit  pow'ful  slow, 

Per  shoj, 
Long  side  er  dressin'  fer  a  beau. 

He  mighty  slick'ry !  w'en  he  see 
Me  comin'  roun',  dat  quick  sezee, 
"I  spec's  you  orter  he'p  yo'  maw, 
She  done  look  mighty  tired."   Oh,  law  ! 

Jesso 
Dey  all  talks  w'en  dey'z  playin'  beau ! 

De  fus'  I  knowed  wuz  one  warm  night, 
De  moon  wuz  shinin'  full  an'  bright, 
De  groun'-pea  patch  wuz  wet  wid  dew, 
De  milyun-patch  wuz  glis'nin',  too ; 

Fer  sho', 
De  ve'y  night  ter  bring  a  beau. 


74 


Ol'  'oornan.  we's  a-gittin'  op 


MY  LI  L  GAL  DONE  GOT  A  BEAU 

I  sot  jes'  whar  de  hop- vine  th'owed 
Hit's  shadder  roun'  de  do',  an'  growed 
So  thick  dem  chillen  didn'  see 
Dat  'hime  hit  sot  ol'  man  an'  me. 

You  know 
Gals  kin'  er  blin'  'longside  dey  beau. 

Suz !  w'ile  dey'z  swingin'  on  de  gate, 
I  yeard  a  soun',  an'  sho'  ez  fate 
I  see  dat  darky  up  an'  kiss 
My  li'l  gal,  my  li'l  M'liss ! 

"Per  sho'," 
Sez  paw,  "dat  gal  done  got  a  beau !" 

Sez  I,  "Gwine  fix  dat  fool  dis  day 
Per  kiss  a  li'l  gal  dat-a-way !" 

"Now  jes'  set  still,  ol'  gal,"  sezee, 

"An'  let  dat  co'tin'  couple  be. 

You  know 
Growed  gals  is  boun'  ter  have  dey  beau. 


77 


MY  Li'L  GAL  DONE  GOT  A  BEAU 

"Shucks !  w'en  we  done  ow'  co'tin'  we 
Wuz  jes'  ez  young  ez  dem  two  be. 
OF  'ooman,  we's  a-gittin'  on, 
Dat  li'l  gal  uv  ow'n  gone 

Fer  sho', 
Bekase  she  bin  an'  got  a  beau." 

My  li'l  gal  done  got  a  beau, 

Dasso ! 

No  use  ter  wring  my  han's  an'  cry, 
De  li'l  gal  she  clean  gone  by ! 
Oh,  chile,  bes'  man  you  uver  saw 
Will  nuver  love  you  lak  yo'  maw ! 

But  sho' ! 
Dat  gal  doan'  kyare, — she  got  a  beau ! 


WHAR    DEM    SINFUL    APPLES    GROW 

OL/  Adam  he  live  in  de  Gyardin  uv  Eden, 

('Way  down  yonner) 
He  didn'  know  writin'  an'  he  didn'  know  readin', 

('Way  down  yonner) 

He  stay  dar  erlone  jes'  eatin'  an'  a- sleeping 
He  say,  "Dis  mighty  po'  comp'ny  Fse  a-keepm'," 
'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow. 

So  dey  tuck  ol'  Adam  an'  dey  putt  him  a-nappin', 

('Way  down  yonner) 
An'  de  fus'  thing  you  know  dish  yer  w'at  happen, 

('Way  down  yonner) 

Dey  tucken  his  rib  an'  dey  made  a  'ooman, 
She  mighty  peart  an'  she  spry  an'  she  bloomin', 
'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow. 


79 


WHAR  DEM   SINFUL  APPLES  GROW 

Dey  'spute  sometimes  an'  he  say,  ol'  Adam, 

('Way  down  yonner) 
"You  nuttin'  but  spar'-rib,  nohow,  madam," 

('Way  down  yonner) 

She  say,  "Dat  de  trufe  an'  hit  am'  a-hu't'n', 
Fer  de  spar'-rib's  made  f'um  a  hawg,  dat's  sut'n," 
'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow. 

De  Sarpint  he  slip  in  de  Gyardin  uv  Eden, 

('Way  down  yonner) 
He  seed  Mis'  Eve  an'  he  'gun  his  pleadin', 

('Way  down  yonner) 

'Twel  she  tucken  de  apple  an'  den  he  quit  'er, 
Hissin',  "Ho !  ho !  dat  fruit  mighty  bitter." 

'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow. 

OF  Adam  he  say,  "W'at  dat  you  eatin'  ?" 

('Way  down  yonner) 
"Please  gimme  a  bite  er  dat  summer-sweetm'," 

('Way  down  yonner) 

She  gin  de  big  haff  wid  de  core  an'  de  seed  in, 
An'  dar  whar  she  show  her  manners  an'  her  breeding 
'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow. 


80 


WHAR  DEM   SINFUL  APPLES  GROW 

Den  Adam  he  ac'  right  sneakin'  sho'ly, 

('Way  down  yonner) 
An'  mek  his  'scuse  ter  de  Lawd  right  po'ly, 

('Way  down  yonner) 
Blamin'  Eve  'kase  she  do  w'at  he  tell  'er, 
An'  settin'  dat  'zample  fer  many  a  feller, 

'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow. 

Den  de  Lawd  He  say  in  de  Gyardin  uv  Eden, 

('Way  down  yonner) 

"No  sech  a  man  shell  do  my  weedin'," 

('Way  down  yonner) 

So  fo'th  fum  de  Gyardin  de  Lawd  He  bid  him, 
An'  o'  co'se  Mis'  Eve  she  up  an'  went  wid  him, 
'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow. 

Oh,  sinner,  is  you  in  de  Gyardin  uv  Eden  ? 

('Way  down  yonner) 
Is  you  on  dem  sinful  apples  feedin'  ? 

('Way  down  yonner) 
Come  out,  oh,  sinner,  befo'  youse  driven, 
De  debil  gwine  git  you  ef  you  goes  on  livin' 

'Way  down  yonner  whar  dem  sinful  apples  grow ! 


81 


BUCK-STEER 

YAS,  bosses  is  good  fer  ter  run  a  race, 
I  ain'  gwineter  'ny  dat  dey  has  dey  place, 
But  dey  got  sech  a  turr'bl'  tas'e  fer  oats, 
An'  cawn  jes'  melts  down  dey  guzzlin'  th'oats; 
Ef  I  owned  a  boss,  dough,  I'd  treat  him  white, 
Dese  rack-o'-bone  beas'  is  a  scan'lous  sight. 
Ef  you  gits  you  a  boss,  den  you  gotter  scratch 
Erroun'  fer  a  wagon  an'  all  ter  match, 
'Kase  de  boss  is  a  qual'ty  sorter  beas', 
An'  he  orter  be  'spected,  ter  say  de  leas'. 
Doan'  talk  ter  me,  neener,  erbout  de  mewl, 


82 


BUCK-STEER 

De  trouble  wid  him  is  he  ac'  de  fool, 

He  think  dat  he  know  w'at  yo'  bizness  is 

Heap  better  dan  uver  you  know  w'at  'tis. 

You  pull  ter  de  right,  he  pull  ter  de  lef ' , 

An'  you  got  no  way  fer  ter  he'p  yo'se'f ; 

You  hurry  him  up  an'  he  slow  right  down, 

Er  plant  hisse'f,  stubbo'n,  an'  stan'  his  groun' ; 

You  'suade  an'  you  'suade  him  an'  fus'  you  know 

His  heels  is  up  an'  youse  down  below. 

Naw,  gimme  my  steer,  w'ich  his  name  is  Buck, 

An'  my  ol'  ox-kyart  fer  ter  hoi'  my  truck, 

An'  I  'oon  swap  out  fer  no  mewl  ner  hoss, 

No  matter  how  much  moughter  bin  dey  cos'. 

I  unnerstan'  Buck  an'  he  unnerstan'  me, 

He  "haws"  w'en  he's  hawed  an'  he  "gees"  fer  "gee. 

Dat  steer  am'  gaited,  he's  right  much  slow, 

But  he'll  teck  you  jes'  whar  you  wanster  go; 

He  ain'  gwineter  hurry,  he  ain'  gwine  fuss, 

But  he  does  mo'  wu'k  dan  some  lively  cuss 

Dat  prances  an'  capers  an'  putts  on  airs 

An'  ends  wid  lan'in'  you  Lawd  knows  whars. 

W'en  I  goes  ter  town  in  my  li'l  ox-kyart 

I  gin  ol'  Buck  jes'"  a  wu'd  ter  start, 


BUCK-STEER 

Den  I  ain'  hatter  bodder  'bout  him  no  mo', 
My  min'  goes  a-trabelin'  to  and  fro, 
'Twel  she  gits  wo'  out  an'  I  draps  ersleep, 
But  de  steer  jes'  amble  erlong  an'  keep 
A-goin'  ez  stiddy  ez  clock-han's  roun' 
'Twel  he  stop  whar  I  trades  my  truck  in  town, 
I  tell  you  my  'spec'  fer  dat  steer  is  mo' 
Dan  I  has  fer  mos'  humans  I  uver  know. 
He  nuver  complain  an'  he  nuver  whine 
Ner  sets  up  'pinions  dat  'sputes  wid  mine, 
He  knows  w'at  his  wu'k  is  an'  putts  hit  thu. 
An'  dat's  mo'  dan  some  er  us  humans  do. 
I  tell  you,  I'd  hatter  have  low-down  luck 
Befo'  I  'ud  part  wid  my  ol'  steer,  Buck. 


86 


MY    CHILLEN'S    PICTYAH 

(AN    EPISODE    OF   AMATEUR    PHOTOGRAPHY) 

Hr,  chillen !  w'at  on  yearf  dis  mean  dat  you  doan'  arnser 

me? 

Dem's  de  beatenes'  lot  er  chillen  dat  uver  I  did  see ! 
I  gin'ly  has  ter  hunt  fer  'em  er  ketch  'em  on  de  fly, 
Per,  dough  I  ses  de  wu'd  myse'f,  my  chillen  monst'ous 

spry. 

Dar's  Nancy,  now,  a-hidin'  'hime  dat  woodpile,  lak  a  fool, 
An'  yer  comes  Araminty  Zo  a-kitin'  back  f ' um  school ; 
An'  Zip  done  say  dat  he  a-gwine  a-huntin'  cotton-tails — 
Law !  dar  dat  boy  now,  sho'  'z  yo'  bawn,  a-roostin'  top 
dem  rails. 


MY    GUILLENS    P1CTYAH 

Come  down  yer  'meejit,  chillen,  vvhar  dese  wilier  bushes 

grow, 

An'  stan'  yo'se'fs  toge'rr  in  a  nice  an'  eben  row. 
Yer's  man  f'um  town  dat  wanster  teck  a  pictyah  uv  you 

all, 
An'  say  he  gimme  one  ter  keep  widout  no  cos'  a-tall. 

Now  doan'  you  stop  ter  wash  yo'  han's  er  fix  in  Sunday 

clo'es, 
Man  say  he  wan'  you  come  jes'  so,  'n'  I  reckon  dat  he 

knows. 
Yer,  Zip,  you  stan'  between  de  gals,  an'  stop  dat  pinchin' 

trick, 
An'  ef  you  doan'  stop  gigglin'  so,  I  fotch  you  all  a  lick ! 

Yer,  Nancy,  putt  dem  han's  er  yo'n  toge'rr,  jine  em  so, 
An'  try  an'  look  mo'  sensible,  lak  Araminty  Zo ! 
You  s'poze  I  want  a  pictyah  fer  ter  keep  thu  all  my  days 
Wid  chillen  grinnin'  out  dey  moufs  in  no-kyoun'  foolish 
ways? 


88 


MY    GUILLEN  S    TICTYAH 

Now  look  jes'  whar  man  tell  you  to — you  Zip,  tu'n  out 

dem  toes ! 

Wat !  tuck  a'raidy  !  Dat's  ez  quick  ez  uver  lightnin'  goes  ! 
Fse  mighty  'bleeged,  an'  on'y  wish  dat  hit  mought  so  'a 

bin 
You  hadn'  tuck  dey  pictyah  wid  dat  mos'  owdacious  grin. 

But,  atter  all,  w'y,  mebbe  hit's  ez  well  dat  dat  shu'd  be, 
'Kase  w'en  deys  growed  an'  full  er  kyares  an'  I  mought 

wanter  see 

Jes'  how  my  li'l  kyareless,  happy  chillen  useter  look, 
I'll  go  retch  down  de  pictyah  dat  you  has  so  kin'ly  took. 


THE    CONJURE-DOCTOR 

SHE'S  a  cunjer-doctah,  she  is  fer  sho', 
Hit's  de  trufe  Tse  tellin',  I  orter  know, 
'Kase  she  cunjer  me  good,  you  neenter  laff, 
An'  she  cunjer  ow'  cow  an'  de  spotted  calf, 
An'  she  cunjer  my  mammy  an'  daddy,  too, 
An'  dey  am'  no  eend  ter  de  tricks  she  do. 
Mean  pussons  pay  her  fer  puttin'  de  spell, 
Den  you  gotter  pay  fer  ter  mek  you  well. 
Got  a  heap  er  money  all  hid  erway, 
But  she  done  putt  a  hoo-doo  on,  dey  say, 
So  ef  you  shu'd  fin'  hit,  instid  uv  cash 
You'd  hoi'  in  yo'  fistes  some  no-kyoun'  trash. 


90 


She's  a  cunjer-doctah,  she  is  fer  sho' 


THE    CONJURE-DOCTOR 

She's  a  blue-gom  nigger,  dat  w'at  I  know, 
So  her  bite  is  pizen,  dey  all  sesso, 
An'  ebil-eye,  lawsy !  she  got  dat,  too, 
You  better  min'  out  w'en  she  look  at  you. 
She  do  lak  she  sewin'  on  kyarpet-rags 
But  I  boun'  you  she  makin'  ol'  cunjer-bags. 
Deep  down  in  dat  baskit  she  got  a  lot 
Er  dem  cunjer  doin's.   I  tell  you  w'at 
We  foun'  one  day  in  de  midse  er  de  baid ; 
'Twuz  a  cunjer-bag!  an'  de  thing  wuz  raid, 
Dat's  de  color  uv  blood,  youse  knowin'  dat ; 
Eenside  wuz  a  piece  uv  de  wing  uv  bat, 
An'  a  toad-frog's  foot  an'  a  squinch-owl's  toe, 
An'  a  tuf  uv  hya'r  an'  a  heap  lot  mo' 
Dat  I  kain't  jes'  'member,  an'  ev'ything 
Wuz  tankled  an'  tied  wid  a  piece  uv  string. 
Ef  dey  ain'  fin'  dat  w'en  dey  shuk  de  baid 
I  spec'  ev'y  one  er  we-all  bin  daid. 
Dey  tucken  hit  yer  ter  dis  ol'  Aunt  Sue 
An'  pay  her  fer  gittin'  de  spell  ondo, 
An'  some  un  else,  jes'  ez  sho'  ez  yo'  bawn, 
Done  paid  her  fer  puttin'  de  hoo-doo  on. 
I  wuz  gwine  erlong  up  de  road  one  day 
W'en  I  seed  her  a-stoopin'  down  dis  way 


93 


THE    CONJURE-DOCTOR 

At  de  front  do'step  uv  Link  Timms's  house, 
An'  I  kep'  jes'  ez  still  ez  de  stilles'  mouse ; 
Wen  she  go  erway  den  I  go  an'  spy, 
An'  dar  'z  a  live  toad-frog  she  gone  an'  tie 
Fas'  by  de  laig  to  a  stick  in  de  groun', 
An'  de  string  wuz  all  tankled  an'  knotted  roun' 
Wid  bits  uv  raid  flannen.   My  Ian',  I  flew ! 
Ef  you  kin  believe  me,  fus'  news  I  knew 
Link  Timms's  young  baby-gal  up  an'  died 
Soon  atter  I  seed  dat  'ar  toad-frog  tied. 
She'll  ketch  us  a-peekin' !  we  better  run, 
She  won't  stan'  styarin'  f'um  any  one, 
Hit  meks  her  plum'  mad,  an'  we  may  git  trick', 
We  better  mek  tracks  f'um  dis  place  right  quick, 
'Kase  dese  cunjer-doctahs  dey  year  an'  see 
Nemmine  ef  folks  whuspers  lak  you  an'  me. 
Hit's  de  trufe  Fse  tellin',  I  orter  know, 
She's  a  cunjer-doctah,  she  is,  fer  sho' ! 


94 


WHEN  THE  CROP'S  LAID  BY.* 

WEN  de  crap's  laid  by,  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 
Den  I  years  de  blades  a-rus'lin' 
An'  dey  whuspers,  "No  mo'  bus'lin', 
Go  'long,  nigger,  quit  yo'  hus'lin', 
Fer  de  crap's  laid  by, 

Hit's  Augus',  good  ol'  Augus',  an'  de  crap's  laid  by." 

*This  expression  does  not  refer  to  harvest,  but  to  that  season, 
usually  during  the  month  of  August,  when  the  corn-crop  needs  no 
further  working,  and  the  "hands"  are  foot-loose.  This  is  the  time 
generally  chosen  forthe  "big-meetin's"  of  the  year. 

95 


WHEN  THE  CROP  S  LAID  BY 

Wen  de  crap's  laid  by,  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 
Den  de  tossels  nod  an'  beckon, 
An'  dey  ses  ter  me,  "I  reckon, 
Time  yo'  holiday  youse  teckin', 
Fer  de  crap's  laid  by, 

Hit's  Augus',  good  ol'  Angus',  an'  de  crap's  laid  by." 

W'en  de  crap's  laid  by,  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 
No  mo'  plowin',  no  mo'  hoein', 
Den  de  time  done  come  fer  goin', 
Dat  w'at  ol'  Dick-mewl  a-knowin', 
W'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 

In  Augus',  good  ol'  Augus',  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by. 

W'en  de  crap's  laid  by,  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 
An'  dar's  nuttin'  mo'  ter  hinner, 
Den  I  'members  Fse  a  sinner, 
'Tends  de  meetin's  whar  dey's  dinner 
W'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 

In  Augus',  good  ol'  Augus',  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by. 


96 


WHEN  THE  CROP  S  LAID  BY 

Wen  de  crap's  laid  by,  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 
I  gits  happy  thu  an'  thu  me, 
Gits  me  'ligion  'nuff  ter  do  me 
Twel  nex'  Augus'  come  roun'  to  me, 
W'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 

In  Augus',  good  ol'  Augus',  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by. 

W'en  de  crap's  laid  by,  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 
An'  de  moon  shines  out  so  brightly, 
We  goes  sparkin'  so  perlitely, 
Dat  de  gals  doan'  hate  us,  quitely, 
W'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 

In  Augus',  good  ol'  Augus',  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by. 

W'en  de  crap's  laid  by,  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 
Den  you  hasn'  no  misgivin' 
Dat  youse  uver  gwine  feel  driven, 
An'  youse  glad  ter  jes'  be  livin', 
W'en  de  crap's  laid  by, 

In  Augus',  good  ol'  Augus',  w'en  de  crap's  laid  by. 


97 


WEN    I    SEES    A   YALLER    GAL 

OH  !  w'en  I  sees  a  yaller  gal 

A-comin'  down  de  paff, 
I  gits  my  eyes  all  fixed  fer  her, 

My  mouf  begins  ter  laff, 
An'  den  dat  li'l  yaller  gal 

She  jes'  kain't  pass  me  by 
Widout  her  mouf  a-drippin'  smiles, 

An'  sparkles  in  her  eye. 

Oh,  dem  yaller,  yaller  ladiz 
Kain't  pass  me  w'en  dey  tries, 

I  sets  dey  hearts  a-flutt'rin' 
Wid  my  goo-goo  eyes. 


I  gits  my  eyes  all  fixed  fer  her, 
My  mouf  begins  ter  laff 


W'EN   I   SEES  A  YALLER  GAL 

Oh,  Jim's  a  mighty  plowin'-han', 

An'  Sile  kin  use  de  hoe, 
An'  Sam  kin  pick  de  cotton  fas', 

An'  Eph  kin  swing  de  bow, 
An'  Jeff's  a  banjer  picker,  suz ! 

An'  Wash  kin  darnse  lak  fun, 
But  w'en  hit  comes  ter  yaller  gals 

I  beats  'em  ev'y  one. 

Oh,  dem  yaller,  yaller  ladiz, 
I  tecks  'em  by  supprize, 

An'  sets  dey  hearts  all  flutt'rin' 
Wid  my  goo-goo  eyes. 

But  w'en  dat  li'l  Reby-gal 

Come  swingin'  down  de  paff, 
My  eyes  done  quit  dey  rollin'  roun', 

My  mouf  fergit  ter  laff, 
'Kase  Reby  she  ain'  stop  a-tall, 

She  jes'  go  sailin'  by, 
A-laughin'  at  me  wid  her  mouf 

An'  teasin'  wid  her  eye. 

Oh,  dat  yaller,  yaller  lady, 

De  on'ies'  one  I  prize, 
Done  set  my  heart  all  flutt'rin' 

Wid  her  goo-goo  eyes. 
101 


TELL   'EM    HOWDY 

You  think  dat  baby  favor  me? 
Well,  I  dunno  how  dat  may  be, 
Some  think  he  look  jes'  lak  he  paw, 
Some  say  he  imidge  uv  he  maw. 
Dat  nose  er  his'n,  flat  an'  close, 
I  think  hit  favor  paw  de  mos', 
Dem  gre't  big  eyes  er  his  he  may 
Git  f'um  he  maw,  dat  w'at  dey  say. 

But,  honey,  w'at  I  kyare  'bout  dat ! 
I  on'y  knows  youse  roun'  an'  fat 
An'  sof  an'  cute  an'  mighty  sweet, 
An'  plenty  good  enuff  ter  eat ! 
Now  son,  set  up  an'  be  good  chile, 
An'  show  de  ladiz,  w'en  you  smile, 
Dem  li'l  bran'  new  toofs  er  yo'n 
Dat  bit  my  finger  ter  de  bone. 

1 02 


TELL    'EM     HOWDY 

But  law !  he  done  hit  jes'  in  play, 
'Twuz  jes'  ez  ef  he  mean  ter  say, 
"I  knows  de  use  er  toof  s — ter  eat, 
An'  you  kain't  fool  me,  dish  yer's  meat." 
Stop  suckin'  er  dat  li'l  fis' 
An'  wave  yo'  li'l  han'  lak  dis, 
An'  tell  de  ladiz  "Howdy."   Son ! 
He  won'  show  off  fer  any  one. 

De  fus'  thing  at  de  peek  er  day, 

Dat  chile  set  up  in  bed  an'  say, 

"Maw !  howdy,  maw !"  An'  pull  my  hya'r 

Wid  all  he  might,  I  do  declar', 

An'  w'en  he  paw  go  off  ter  wu'k 

He  wave  he  han's  an'  fairly  ju'k 

F'um  out  my  arms,  sweet  li'l  man, 

A-yellin'  "Howdy !"  loud  'z  he  can. 

An'  w'en  he  paw  git  home  at  night 
Hit  sut'n'y  is  a  pooty  sight 
Ter  see  dat  baby  laugh  an'  crow 
An'  "Howdy"  w'en  he  paw  "Hello !" 
Dat  'bout  de  on'y  wu'd  he  know, 
An'  w'en  folks  come  an'  w'en  dey  go, 
Ef  dey  doan'  teck  no  note  er  him, 
He  call  out  "Howdy!"  li'l  limb! 
103 


TELL     EM     HOWDY 

But  ef  dey  coaxes,  jes'  dat  sho' 

He  suck  he  li'l  fis'  de  mo'. 

Hit  'pears  ter  me  dat  'bout  de  way 

Dat  big  folks  ac'in'  ev'y  day : 

Jes'  coax  an'  mek  'em  think  dey's  some 

An'  all  de  mulier  dey  become, 

But  jes'  you  leave  'em  ter  deyse'f— 

Come  roun'  so  quick  hit  teck  yo'  bref. 

Now  w'at  I  tell  you !  jes'  see  dere ! 
He  think  we  done  fergit  ter  kyare, 
An'  so  he  up  an'  show  he  trick : 
My  blessed  lamb,  but  you  is  slick ! 
Yas,  tell  'em  "Howdy," — see  him  grin ! 
Now  watch  'em  jes'  ez  fur  'z  you  kin. 
Myse'f  doan'  think  a  man  quite  right 
Dat  doan'  watch  ladiz  out  er  sight. 


104 


LAY    LOW,    MISTER    TUKKEY 

CHRIS'MAS  comin',  sho'z  yo'  bawn, 
Bes'  stop  stuffin'  all  dat  cawn, 
Quit  dat  struttin'  'crost  de  lawn, 
Lay  low,  Mister  Tukkey. 

Yas,  dem  wattles  mighty  fine, 
Dem  brunze  fedders  shine  an'  shine, 
An'  yo'  by'ud  right  long — nemmine, 
Lay  low,  Mister  Tukkey. 

Fines'  one  uv  all  de  lot, 

Dat  de  one  dey  gwineter  spot, 

You  be  scalded  in  de  pot, 

Lay  low,  Mister  Tukkey. 

105 


LAY    LOW,    MISTER    TURKEY 

You  be  roas'ed  on  de  spit, 
'Kase  you  stuffed  all  you  cu'd  git, 
We-all  hens  be  roun'  yer  yit, 
Lay  low,  Mister  Tukkey. 

My  ol'  Mammy  alluz  'lowed, 
"Nuver  pays  ter  be  too  proud, 
Bes'  keep  right  'long  wid  de  crowd," 
Lay  low,  Mister  Tukkey. 

Knows  dese  white  folks  an'  deir  ways, 
Fats  you  up  bekase  hit  pays, 
Bes'  be  "po'-folks"  dese  yer  days, 
Lay  low,  Mister  Tukkey. 


106 


ANSWERING   THE    MOCKING-BIRD 

LfL  bird  in  yonner  tree, 

Swingin', 

Singin', 
I  wish  you  Tarn  dat  song  ter  me, 

Singin', 

Swingin'. 

Oh,  li'l  bird  all  white  an'  gray, 
You  mocks  de  urr  birds  by  day 
But  sings  yo'  own  sweet  song  at  night, 
Oh,  li'l  bird  all  gray  an'  white ! 

107 


ANSWERING   THE    MOCKING-BIRD 

Li'l  bird  in  yonner  tree, 

Mockin', 

Talkin', 
You  mummies  ev'y  one  you  see, 

Talkin', 

Mockin'. 

Oh,  li'l  bird  all  white  an'  gray, 
Hit  mus'  be  fun  ter  do  dat  way, 
But  I  ain'  sho'  hit's  jes'  perlite, 
Oh,  li'l  bird  all  gray  an'  white ! 

Li'l  bird  in  yonner  tree, 

Whustlin', 

Rustlin', 
Youse  happy  'kase  youse  wil'  an'  free, 

Rustlin', 

Whustlin'. 

Oh,  li'l  bird  all  white  an'  gray, 
I  whustles,  too,  bekase  I'se  gay, 
We  got  no  kyares,  ow'  wu'k  is  light, 
Oh,  li'l  bird  all  gray  an'  white ! 


108 


I  whustles.  too,  bekase  I'se  gay 


ANSWERING   THE    MOCKING-BIRD 

Li'l  bird  in  yonner  tree, 

Wingin', 

Singin', 
Ef  on'y  I  a  bird  cu'd  be, 

Singin', 

Wingin', 

Den,  li'l  bird  all  white  an'  gray, 
I'd  mock  de  urr  songs  by  day, 
An'  keep  my  own  fer  her  at  night, 
Oh,  li'l  bird  all  gray  an'  white ! 


in 


GITTIN'    UNDER    POWER 


Miss  BELLE,  you  better  ga'rr  all  yo'  hens  an'  tukkies  in, 
Fer  de  big  contractid  meetin'  is  gwineter  soon  begin. 
You  know  las'  time  dey  got  'em  all,  an'  all  de  lambs  an' 

shotes, 
Befo'  de  meetin'  stopped,  had  gone  down  some  dem  con- 

vu'ts'  th'oats. 

I  ain'  swored  off  f'um  goin',  an'  I  may  git  happy  some, 
But  I  'clared  las'  time  dat  w'en  erg'in  contractid  meetin' 

come, 
Dough  I  mought  set  on  de  mo'ners'  bench  an'  sing  a  bit 

an'  shout, 
I  doan'  git  under  power  ef  I  knows  w'at  I'se  erbout. 


112 


GITTIN'  UNDER  POWER 

Miss  Belle,  some  dem  fool  wimmins  'buse  dey  'ligious 

priverlidge, 
An'  'tend  dey's  under  power,  lak  dat  Lize  f um  on  de 

Ridge, 
An'  does  all  kin's  er  mean  low  tricks  you  gotter  stan',  fer 

dey 
Lets  on  dat  dey  dunno  a-tall  dey's  kyar'yin'  on  dat-a-way. 

I  ain'  bin  tol'  you  'bout  de  furse  I  had  wid  Lize  las'  'ear 
Wen  she  wuz  gittin'  'ligion  at  de  meetin's  over  yer  ? 
Her  soul's  healt'  ain'  w'at  bring  her  all  dat  distunz  thu 

de  dark ; 
Dat  gal  she  full  er  meanness,  an'  she  come  ter  have  a  lark. 

One  night  I  went  wid  Cashus  Clay,  an'  on  my  haid  I  wo' 
De  bigges'  hat  dat  I  cu'd  fin'  at  dat  'ar  One-Price  Sto' ; 
I'd  bent  hit  roun'  an'  kotched  hit  up  jes'  over  one  my 

years, 
An'  putt  on  all  de  'ficial  flow's  you  gin  me  dese  five  'ears. 

Well,  honey,  w'en  we  got  ter  chu'ch  dat  Liza  she  wuz 

dar, 

A-singin'  an'  a-shoutin'  an'  a-jumpin'  in  de  air; 
She'd  roll  her  eyes  an'  clap  her  han's  an'  raise  up  on  de 

toe, 
An'  grunt  lak  dis,  "Um-umph !   um-umph !"   an'   come 

down  haivy,  so. 


GTTTIN'  UNDER  POWER 

Twere  all  putt  on!    I  knows  de  signs  er  gittin'  under 

power, 
Dough  dey  may  show  de  whites  dey  eyes  an*  jump  up  by 

de  hour, 
Dey  kain't  fool  me !  Wen  dat  gal  see  my  hat  an'  Cashus 

Clay, 
I  seed  her  look  fer  meanness  ez  she  started  down  ow'  way. 

She  done  bin  atter  Cash  husse'f ,  but  'tain'  a  bit  er  use, 
Fer  Cash  doan'  pay  no  Mention  'tall  ter  sech  a  grinnin' 

goose. 

She  come  cavawtin'  up  ter  me  an'  struck  me  in  de  face 
An'  grabbed  my  hat  f  um  ofFn  me  an'  'gun  ter  tear  de 

lace. 

"Gal,  come  erg'in !"  I  ses  ter  her,  "I'se  raidy  fer  a  fight !" 
"Stop !  Stop  !ff  dey  ses,  "she  under  power,  ter  hit  her  ain' 

bin  right!" 

Miss  Belle,  I  hatter  see  dat  gal  jes'  tear  my  hat  in  bits 
An'  I  fell  up  fgin  Cashus  lak  I  gwineter  go  in  fits. 

Dat  mek  her  madder'n  uver  yit  ter  see  Cash  holdin'  me, 
She  to'  my  flow's  ter  frazzles,  twel  dey  wuz  a  sight  ter 

see, 

An'  den  she  wake  up  sudden,  'tendin'  lak  she  jes'  come  to, 
An*  ses,  "I  hopes  you  'scuse  me,  fer  I  ain'  know  w'at  I 

do." 

114 


GITTIN     UNDER    POWER 

"Sho',  gal !  go  'way !"  sez  I  ter  her.  "Dat  wuz  a  game  you 

played ! 
Huccome  you  know  so  well  jes'  whar  you  'scuses  mus'  be 

made?" 

"Dellaws !"  sez  she,  a-grinnin'  kind  er  deb'lish-lak  at  dat, 
"I  sees  dis  rubbidge  an*  I  sees  dat  you  ain'  got  no  hat !" 

"Gal !  come  outside !"  I  ses  ter  her,  but  she  grown  mighty 

good; 

"Dish  yer's  contractid  meetin',  sister,  er  I  sut'n'y  would." 
"Gre't-Day-in-de-mawnin*,  gal!"  sez  I,  "bes'  min'  w'at 

youse  erbout, 
Fer  de  fus'  nex'  time  I  meet  you  we'se  gwineter  have  dis 

out !" 

I  hatter  set  all  meetin'  thu  widout  no  hat  an'  see 
Dat  gal  a-cuttin'  capers  an'  a-mekin'  fun  er  me ; 
She'd  roll  her  eyes  at  Cash  an'  grin,  an'  pick  up  bits  er 

hat, 
But  putt  right  quick  w'en  meetin'  'z  out, — I  tuck  good 

note  er  dat. 

I  ain'  sot  eyes  upun  her  sence,  she  done  keep  out  my  way, 
She  'z  a  pulin'  sawt  er  nigger  an'  she's  'feard  er  me,  dey 

say. 

She  spec's  ter  'tend  de  meetin's,  so  I  year,  an'  ef  she  do, 
Gre't  King !  Fse  gwineter  fin'  some  way  ter  putt  dat  darky 

thu. 


GITTIN     UNDER    POWER 

I  done  bin  tol'  you  I  am'  kyare  'bout  gittin'  under  power, 
But  we-all  darkies  nuver  knows  jes'  w'en  de  Heav'nly 

shower 

Is  comin'  down,  an'  ef  I  should  jes'  happen  in  dat  state, — 
Dar  ain'  gwine  be  one  spear  er  wool  lef  on  dat  'ooman's 

pate! 


116 


SKEESICKS 

YAS,  "Skeesicks,"  dat's  my  puppy's  name, 

De  sma'tes'  li'l  dog,  suh, 
Heap  better  dan  dem  gre't  big  ones, 

He  ain'  no  bump-on-log,  suh  ! 
I  'oon  swap  Skeesicks  fer  no  dog, 

No  p'inter,  houn'  ner  setter, 
'Kase  w'y?  He's  mine,  I  knows  his  p'ints, 

In  co'se  I  knows  he's  better. 


117 


SKEESICKS 

I  made  dis  li'l  kyart  myse'f, 

An'  Skeesicks  loves  ter  draw  hit, 
He  lemme  back  him  in  de  shaf's 

De  fustes'  time  he  saw  hit. 
He  minds  me  good,  'cep'  w'en  he  sees 

A  cat,  an'  den  he  races, 
Upsets  de  kyart  an'  spills  de  load 

An'  bus's  clean  thu  de  traces. 

I  tell  you  he  ain'  "dog,"  he's  "folks," 

He  knows  jes'  w'at  I'se  thinking 
He'll  set  an'  watch  my  face  fer  hours 

Widout  so  much  ez  blinkin' ; 
An'  ef  I  try  ter  steal  erway 

Widout  my  puppy  knowin', 
Yer  come  dat  Skeesicks  sneakin'  'long, 

He  know  jes'  whar  I'se  goin'. 

He  slinks  erlong  ontwel  I  laff, 

An'  den  he  tail  'gins  waggin', 
An'  he  comes  kitin'  down  de  paff 

An'  quits  dat  scrouchy  laggin' ; 
He  snuggles  on  my  baid  at  night, 

Erfraid  I'll  quit  'fo'  mawnin', 
An'  licks  my  face  ter  wake  me  up 

Jes'  'bout  w'en  day  is  dawnin'. 
118 


SKEESICKS 

Dat  dog  he's  sho'-'nuff  gemman-bawn, 

You  nuver  ketch  him  thievin', 
Ner  suckin'  aigs,  he's  jes'  de  kin* 

Dat  you  kin  trus'  an'  b'lieve  in. 
De  on'ies'  time  he  ac's  lak  "dog" 

Is  w'en  I  tease  him,  tryin' 
Ter  teck  his  bone,  er  w'en  some  cat 

Gits  ac'in'  too  high-flyin'. 

I  loves  him  mo'  dan  I  kin  tell, 

An'  he  loves  me  de  sanies', 
An'  ef  you  knowed  him  lak  I  does 

You  sho'ly  cudden  blame  us. 
Mo'n  hunnerd  dollars  ain'  kin  buy, 

'Oon  swap  fer  houn'  ner  setter, 
'Kase  Skeesicks's  mine,  I  knows  his  p'ints, 

In  co'se  I  knows  he's  better. 


121 


QUIT    YO>    WORRYIN' 

Nigger  nuver  worry, — 

Too  much  sense  fer  dat, 
Let  de  white  folks  scurry 

Roun'  an'  lose  dey  fat, 
gwine  be  happy,  nuver-min'-you  whar  he  at. 

Nigger  jes'  kain't  worry,— 

Set  him  down  an'  try, 
No  use,  honey,  fer  he 

Sho'  ter  close  he  eye, 
Git  so  pow'ful  sleepy  dat  he  pass  he  troubles  by. 

Cur'ous,  now,  dis  trouble 

Older  dat  hit  grown, 
'Stid  er  gittin'  double, 

Dwinnle  ter  de  bone ; 
Nigger  know  dat,  so  dat  why  he  lef '  he  troubles  'lone. 


122 


QUIT    YO     WORRYIN 

Nigger  nuver  hurry, 

Dem  w'at  wants  ter  may ; 
Hurry  hit  mek  worry ! 

Now  you  year  me  say 

Ain'  gwine  hurry  down  de  road  ter  meet  ol'  Def  half 
way ! 

Den  quit  yo'  hurryin', 

Quit  yo' .worryin' ! 

W'at  de  use  uv  all  dis  scurryin'  ? 
Mek  ol'  Time  go  sof  an'  slow, 
Tell  him  you  doan'  want  no  mo' 

Dish  yer  uverlastin'  flurryin', — 

Jes'  a  trick  er  his  fer  hurryin' 

Folks  de  faster  to'des  dey  burryin' ! 


123 


OL"  MISTER  GRAY-MOSS 


A  oi/,  of  gquaaai  wid  long  giar  hya'r 
Ores  op  dar  in  de  fire-oak  tree; 

He  say,  "Yon  cMOen  better  leek  Igrare^ 

Tarn"  safe  for  j'aH  tor  ODBC  pester  me! 

Yon  teck  tny  bra  r  an'  mr  by'od  erway. 

I  Wnt  yoa  good  at  de  dose  er  day 
Wen  de  •itelKA  walk 
Anr  de  ghos'es  talk 

-  *J!3.    (J 


124 


OL'  MISTER  GRAY-MOSS 

We  lets  him  waggle  dat  ol'  gray  haid, 

We  climbs  an'  climbs  an'  befo'  he  knows 
We  snatch  him  bald,  'kase  we  ain'  erfraid 

Long  ez  de  face  er  de  sun  still  shows ; 
But  w'en  we  see  dat  she's  goin'  down, 
We  loads  ow'  kyart  an'  we  meks  fer  town, 
'Kase  de  witches  walk 
An'  de  ghos'es  talk 
An'  de  wuller-wusps  darnse  w'en  de  light  ain'  roun' 

Dey  ses  w'en  de  moon  comes  out  at  night 
You  kin  see  ol'  Gray-moss  jes'  ez  plain, 
Shakin'  his  hya'r  an'  his  by'ud  so  white 

An'  sighin'  sof  lak  a  man  in  pain. 
But  we  ain'  year  him,  we'se  safe  in  baid 
Wid  de  kivers  drord  tight  erroun'  ow'  haid, 
Fer  de  witches  walk 
An'  de  ghos'es  talk 
An'  de  wuller-wusps  darnse  w'en  de  daylight's  daid. 


127 


TOXIN'    MOMMER'S    BABY 

FSE  my  mommer's  H'l  gal, 
Dish  yer  mommer's  baby, 

Dis  de  sixf  one  I  done  tote, 
Er  de  sebenf ,  maybe ; 

Wunner  w'at  my  mommer  done 

Wen  I  wuz  de  on'ies'  one ; 

Who  toted  mommer's  baby  ? 

Naw'm,  dis  ain'  li'l  Jane, 

Dish  yer  one's  anu'rr ; 
Janey  she  done  1'arn  ter  walk, 

Dis  ow'  new  li'l  br'er. 
Six  months  ol',  de  cunnin'  limb, 
He  know  who  a-holdin'  him, 

Who  totin'  mommer's  baby ! 

128 


TOTIN'  MOMMER'S  BABY 

Yas'm,  I  gits  tol'ble  tired ; 

Dish  yer  chile  right  knowin', 
Digs  he  li'l  toes  in  me 

Fer  ter  keep  me  goin' ; 
Ef  I  stop  a  w'ile  ter  play 
Mommer  bang  my  haid  an'  say, 

"G'long  an'  tote  dat  baby  P 

Spec'  he  think  dat  Fse  his  hoss, — 

Sho'  ter  set  up  squallin' 
Ef  I  stop  ter  res'  a  w'ile. 

Wen  she  year  him  bawlin', 
Mommer  say,  "Wat  all  dis  'bout? 
I  come  out  dar  an'  wear  you  out, 
Ef  you  doan'  tote  dat  baby  P 

Wen  I'se  hongry  fer  a  play, 
Lays  him  on  de  groun'  den, 

Wid  a  bacon-rin'  ter  suck, 
Lawd !   I  chase  aroun'  den, 

Kick  my  heels  up  same'z  de  colt, 

Done  fergit  I  uver  holt 

Er  toted  mommer's  baby. 


129 


TOTIN      MOMMERS    BABY 

Ow'  li'l  Torm  he  gone  ter  Heav'n, — 

'Kase  I  drap  him,  maybe, 
Didn'  go  ter  do  dat-a-way, 

Done  fergot  de  baby, 
Groun'  flewed  up  an'  hit  he  haid, 
'Fo'  I  knowed,  dat  chile  wuz  daid, 
My  mommer's  po'  li'l  baby. 

When  I  gits  ter  Heav'n,  I'll  drap 

Robe  an'  harp  an'  crown  den, 
Putt  out  down  dem  gol'en  streets, 

Won't  kotch  me  aroun'  den 
Ef  some  angel  up  an'  say, 
"Li'l  Torm's  sister,  step  dis-a-way 

An'  tote  yo'  mommer's  baby!" 


130 


IN  THE  MELON-PATCH 

DOWN  whar  de  cawn-blades  are  rus'lin', 
Rus'lin'  an'  whusp'rin'  low, 

Dar's  a  mighty  pleasant  spot 

Wen  de  sun  is  gittin'  hot, 
An'  dar  is  whar  us  chillen  loves  ter  go. 

Oh,  hit's  damp  an'  cool  an'  green 

All  de  shiny  stalks  between, 
An'  dar  is  whar  us  chillen  loves  ter  go. 


IN    THE    MELON-PATCH 

Down  whar  de  cawn-blades  are  rus-lin', 
Rus'lin'  de  livelong  day, 

Dar  we  play  at  hide-an'-seek, 

Cudden  fin'  us  in  a  week, 
An'  dar  is  whar  us  chillen  loves  ter  play. 

Oh,  de  roof  is  green  an'  new, 

An'  de  sun  hit  kain't  leak  thu, 
An'  dar  is  whar  us  chillen  loves  ter  play. 

Down  near  de  cawn-blades  a-rus'lin', 
Rus'lin'  an'  whusp'rin',  too. 

Dar's  a  place  dat's  nicer  yit, 

Wen  we'se  tired  uv  play  an'  quit, 
An'  dar  is  whar  we  res'  us  w'en  we'se  thu. 

Oh,  dey's  sump'n  in  dat  place 

Mighty  pleasin'  to  de  tas'e, 
An'  dar  is  whar  we  res'  us  w'en  we'se  thu. 

Down  near  de  cawn-blades  a-rus'lin', 
Rus'lin'  an'  whusp'rin'  sweet, 
Dar's  a  milyun-patch  whar  grows 
Jes'  de  bestes'  fruit  we  knows, 
An'  dat  is  w'at  us  chillen  loves  ter  eat. 
Oh,  so  red  an'  green  an'  white 
Dat  hit  fills  you  wid  delight, 
An'  dat  is  w'at  us  chillen  loves  ter  eat. 
132 


Bar's  a  milyun-patch  whar  grows 
Jes'  de  bestes'  fruit  we  knows 


IN    THE    MELON-PATCH 

Down  near  de  cawn-blades  a-rus'lin', 

Rus'lin'  an'  whusp'rin'  low, 
We-all  drinks  de  sweet  juice  down 
F'um  de  cup  so  green  an'  roun', 

No  wunner  dat  us  chillen  loves  hit  so. 
An'  we  grudge  each  drap  dat  drips 
F'um  ow'  thu'sty,  thu'sty  lips, 

No  wunner  dat  us  chillen  loves  hit  so. 


135 


WHEN  WE  HEAR  THE  ORGAN  DOWN  THE 
STREET 

W'EN  I  years  de  awgum  playin'  down  de  street, 

Draps  de  baby  den  an'  goes  a-scootin', 
Talk  erbout  yo'  fiddles !  dey  isn'  half  so  sweet, 

Beats  de  angel  Gab'l  wid  his  tootin'. 
"Chillen,  chillen !"  dat  w'at  mommer  say, 

"Doan'  you  dast  a  one  er  you  ter  foller!" 
Fus'  thing  mommer  know,  all  us  chillen  up  an'  go 
Dancin'  down  de  street,  dis  way,  an'  holler : 
"Ki !  Yi !   Am'  a-gwineter  stay  in 
W'en  dat  music  playin', 
Now  you  year  me  sayin', 
Ki !  Yi !   Ain'  a-gwineter  stay  in 
W'en  I  years  de  awgum  playin'  down  de  street." 

W'en  we  years  de  awgum  playin'  down  de  street 

All  us  li'l  chillen  feel  so  jolly, 
Music  gits  ter  wu'kkin'  in  ow'  haids  an'  in  ow'  feet, 

Mammy  say  we  go  clean  off  de  trolley. 


WHEN    WE   HEAR   THE  ORGAN   DOWN   THE   STREET 

Dis  way,  dat  way,  ev'ywhar  he  goes 

Follers  up  de  gemman  wid  de  awgum, 
Wile  us  li'l  coons  shake  ow'  footses  ter  de  chunes 
Dat's  sweeter  dan  de  'lasses  made  f'um  sawghum. 
Ki !   Yi !  White  folks  isn'  in  it 
Wen  we-all  begin  it 
Sixty  steps  de  minute, 
Ki!  Yi!  White  folks  isn' in  it 
Wen  we  years  de  awgum  playin'  down  de  street. 

Wen  dey  years  de  awgum  playin'  down'de  street 

All  de  white  folks  ga'rr  roun'  a-grinnin', 
Toss  us  out  de  pennies  twel  dey  light  beneaf  ow'  feet, 

Kotch  'em  wid  ow'  toes  an'  keep  a-spinnin'. 
Dis  way,  dat  way,  see  us  crack  ow'  heels, 
Bet  we  beats  de  show  folks  in  de  bally, 
Cuts  de  pidjum-wing  an'  we  does  de  highlum-fling 
Got  some  sho'-'nuff  darnsers  in  ow'  alley. 
Ki !   Yi !   Ain'  us  chillen  funny  ? 
Th'ow  us  down  de  money, 
Ain'  we  wu'f  hit,  honey  ? 
Ki !   Yi !   Ain'  us  chillen  funny 
Wen  we  years  de  awgum  playin'  down  de  street  ? 


CALLING   THE   COWS 

DE  sun  is  sidlin'  down  de  sky, 

Behime  de  tree-tops  hidin', 
De  trimbly  shadders  growin'  long, 

I  years  de  tree-toads  chidin' ; 
Hit's  time  I  slip  up  to  de  bars, 

Befo'  de  jew  'gins  fallin', 
An'  fetch  de  cows  home  w'ile  hit's  light, 

A-callin'  an'  a-callin' : 

Come  home,  Black  Bess  an'  Buttercup, 

An'  June  an'  all  de  res' ; 
I  years  yo'  bells  a-tinklin', 
De  stars  will  soon  be  twinklin', 

De  sun  is  in  de  wes'. 


138 


L 


Hit's  time  I  slip  up  to  <le  bars 


CALLING  THE  COWS 

All  up  an'  down  de  branch  by  day 

De  lazy  creeturs  wanner, 
A-wadin',  stannin',  dey  am'  kyare 

'Bout  how  much  time  dey  squanner. 
An'  now  dey  sa'nters  long  to'des  home 

Ez  ef  dey  jes'  haff  tryin', 
I  wonner  ef  dey'd  come  a-tall 

Onless  dey  yearn  me  cryin' : 

Come  home,  Black  Bess  an'  Buttercup, 

An'  June  an'  all  de  res' ; 
I  years  yo'  bells  a-tinklin', 
De  stars  will  soon  be  twinklin', 

De  sun  is  in  de  wes'. 

De  mawnin's  lovely  w'en  youse  fraish 

An'  all  de  birds  is  singin', 
But  ev'nin's  better,  'kase  you  knows 

De  res'  an'  ease  hit's  bringin', 
An'  w'en  de  cows  comes  lowin'  home 

I  falls  ter  thankful  sighin', 
Dey  ain'  no  gladder  to  be  milked 

Dan  I  is  to  be  cryin' : 


141 


CALLING  THE  COWS 

Come  home,  Black  Bess  an'  Buttercup, 

An'  June  an'  all  de  res' ; 
I  years  yo'  bells  a-tinklin', 
De  stars  will  soon  be  twinkling 

De  sun  is  in  de  wes'. 


142 


IN    SORGHUM    TIME 

OH,  de  sawghum  mill  is  goin', 
An'  de  bright  green  juice  is  flowin' 

Sweet  an'  gran', 

An'  yo'  Uncle  Shadrach's  feedin' 
Cane  ez  fas'  ez  hit's  a-needin', 

Wid  one  han', 

Wiles  de  urr  han'  is  grabbin' 
Dis  long  whip,  an'  w'en  Jirn's  nabbin' 

(Dat's  de  mewl) 
At  de  refuge  cane  in  passin', 
I  jes'  lets  him  know  he  dassen'— 

Jim,  you  fool ! 

143 


IN    SORGHUM    TIME 

Bet  I  cuts  a  better  figger 
At  dish  yer  dan  any  nigger 

In  a  mile ; 

I  kin  go  all  day  not  stoppin' 
'Cept  fer  eatin',  am'  no  floppin' 

'Bout  dis  chile.' 

Big  eend  fus'  I  putts  de  cane  in, — 
Laws-a-mussy,  ain'  it  rainin' 

In  de  tub ! 

Run,  you-all,  an'  git  me  sump'n 
'Fo'  dis  tubful  gits  ter  slumpin' ! 

Time  fer  grub? 

Wait  ontwel  I  does  dis  heap  up. 
Lan'  er  tawment,  Jim !  you  creep  up 

Lak  a  snail ! 

Hurry,  suh!   I'se  jes'  a-honin' 
Fer  de  bacon  an'  de  pone  in 

Dat  'ar  pail. 

Um !  how  good  dey  smells,  dem  'lasses, 
Wen  a  whift  er  dem  jes'  passes 

'Crost  my  track ! 
Oh,  dey  meks  de  fines'  sweet'in' 
Fer  all  sawts  er  scrumpshus  eatin', 

Dat's  de  fac' ! 
144 


IN    SORGHUM    TIME 

Folks  dey  meks  a  gre't  'miration 
'Bout  deir  sugar, — gre't  creation! 

Ez  fer  me, 

Dey  kin  have  hit  at  a  ba'gum, 
So  dey  lets  me  have  my  sawghum, 

Yas  sirree ! 

See  dat  mewl !  de  critter's  blin',  yit 
He  doan'  nuver  seem  ter  min'  hit, 

He's  a  limb ! 

Wen  he  pass  dat  cane  he'll  grab  hit, 
Chaw  same  'z  ef  he  bin  a  rabbit, — 

Jim!   Jim!  Jim! 

Come  wid  me,  we'll  stop  a  w'ile  in 
Whar  dey  got  de  cane  a-bilin'. 

Am'  dat  gran'? 

Um !  de  scum  f ' um  off  dem  'lasses 
Hit's  ez  green  ez  w'at  de  grass  is ! 

Dish  yer  pan 

Hoi's  de  thin  juice,  an'  de  secon' 
Lot  is  thicker  yit,  I  reckon, 

An'  de  thu'd, 

Hit  look  mighty  nigh  ter  'lasses, 
Wen  de  ladle  thu  hit  passes, 

Tun  my  wu'd. 

145 


IN   SORGHUM   TIME 

Dish  yer  sawghum  juice  I  ru'rr 
Think  is  lak  a  lot  uv  urr 

Things  I'se  known, 
Mighty  no-kyoun'  at  de  startin', 
An'  dey's  better,  heap,  fer  sartin', 

Wen  b'iled  down. 
See  dat  Jim,  how  he  jes'  stuff  him 
'Kase  der's  no  one  dar  ter  cuff  him ! 

Jim,,  you  fool ! 

Ef  I  comes,  I'se  dat  disgussid 
Dat  der's  gwineter  be  one  bussid 

Up  ol'  mewl ! 


146 


MOM'S    A   WASHER-LADY 

MOM'S  a  washer-lady, 

Goes  out  by  de  day, 
Washes  fer  de  qual'ty, 

Give  her  right  good  pay. 
Tecks  a  lot  ter  feed  an' 

Kiver  up  we-all, 
So  ow'  mommer  sca'cely 

Gits  no  res'  a-tall. 

Some  uv  us  is  alluz 

Got  ow'  footses  bare 
'Kase  we'se  alluz  shufflin', 

Seem  lak  shoes  won'  wear. 
All  de  urr  chillen 

Goes  ter  school  in  town 
Scusin'  me  an'  sister, 

Toes  is  on  de  groun'. 

147 


MOM  S    A     WASHER-LADY 

So  we  gotter  wait  twel 

Mommer  gits  ahaid, 
Gits  de  rent  an'  preacher 

'N  Burrial-S'ci'ty  paid. 
Me  an'  li'l  sister 

Den  we'll  go  ter  school— 
Settin'  on  dis  do'-step's 

Gittin'  tol'ble  cool. 

Mommer  w'en  she  leave  us, 

Fer  ter  stay  all  day, 
Locks  us  out  de  cabin, 

Tecks  de  key  erway, 
'Kase  she  'feard  dat  we-all 

Mought  burn  up  de  place 
Foolin'  wif  de  matches 

Jes'  ter  see  'em  was'e. 

Mommer  say,  "Now  chillen, 

Min'  out  how  you  ac', 
Er  I  gwineter  frail  you 

Soon  ez  I  git  back ! 
P'licemens  dey  is  alluz 

On  de  sharp  lookout, 
Ketches  no-kyoun'  chillen 

W'en  dey  runs  erbout." 


MOM  S    A    WASHER-LADY 

Putts  us  out  some  bacon 

An'  a  li'l  pone 
An'  fer  ow'  li'l  puppy 

Nice  big  gnorrin'-bone ; 
Den  she  go  an'  leave  us. 

Lawd !  w'y  doan'  she  come  ? 
Golly !  but  hit's  lonesome 

Wen  yo'  maw  ain'  home ! 


DE    INCH-WU'M    AN'    DE    HOPPER-GRASS 

DEY  bofe  wuz  gwine  erlong  de  road 

One  lovely  summer  day, 
De  Hopper  he  gin  gre't  big  hops, 

An'  git  'long  fas'  dat-a-way ; 
But  Mister  Inch-wu'm  go  right  slow, 
He  lay  down  flat,  den  hunch  up  so, 
Dat  how  he  go. 

De  Hopper  soon  kotch  up  wid  him, 

An'  pass  de  time  er  day ; 
He  say,  "Law,  Inch-wu'm,  whar  you  gwine 

A-pokin'  'long  dis-a-way  ?" 
"I'se  boun'  fer  Heav'n,"  de  Inch-wu'm  'low, 
"Dough  long  de  road,  I'se  made  my  vow 
Git  dar  somehow." 


152 


DE  INCH-WU'M  AN'  DE  HOPPER-GRASS 

De  Hopper  groun'  he  wings  an'  laff, 

An'  fix  he  laigs  ter  spring. 
"I'se  gwineter  Heav'n  myse'f,"  sezee, 

"You  po'  or  slow-coach  thing ! 
Ef  I  git  dar  befo'  you  do, 
I'll  tell  'em  youse  a-comin',  too. 
So-long  ter  you !" 

De  Inch-wu'm  ain'  say  nuttin'  'tall, 

But  jes'  keep  on  he  paff ; 
An'  one  fine  day  de  Hopper  come 

A-traipsin'  back.   He  laff, — 
"Or  step-an'-f etch,  still  on  de  way  ? 
I  done  bin  dar  an'  back,"  he  say, 
"Sence  tu'rr  day." 

Den  Inch-wu'm  r'ar  he  haid  an'  say, 

"Wat  f er  you  done  come  back  ? 
Wharfo'  you  leave  dat  Heav'nly  home 

Ter  trabel  dis  hard  track  ?" 
"Ho !  'pears  lak  Heav'n  an'  me  doan'  suit, 
Set  still  all  day,  git  tired,  ter  boot, 
An'  den  I  scoot." 


153 


DE  INCH-WU'M  AN'  DE  HOPPER-GRASS 

'Mon,"  sez  de  Inch-wu'm,  "dat  de  way 

Wid  lively,  res'less  men ; 
Git  ev'ywhar  in  gre't  big  jumps, 

Den  wan'  git  back  ergain. 
Ef  you  inched  'long  in  my  slow  way, 
You  bin  right  glad  ter  stop  an'  stay 
Twel  Jedgmen'  Day !" 

Now,  chile,  you  year  me  tell  you  so, 

Hit  jes'  lak  dat,  fer  fac', 
Wen  folks  gits  'ligion  all  ter  onct, 

Dey  boun'  come  slidin'  back ; 
But  dem  w'at  bit  by  bit  inch  'long, 

Dey  gwine  ter  jine  dat  Heav'nly  th'ong, 
Wid  praise  an'  song ! 


154 


JES'  A-STUDYIN' 

JES'  a-studyin',  studyin',  studyin', 

Jes'  a-studyin'  all  de  day, 
My  mammy  sez  Fse  loafin' 

An'  was'in'  time  erway ; 
But  mammy's  jes'  a  'ooman, 

I  kain't  spec'  her  ter  know 
Boys'  haids  is  plumb  a-bustin' 

Wid  things  dat  come  an'  go. 

Ain'  got  no  job  dat's  reg'lar, 

Essept  ter  hoi'  a  hoss 
Up  at  de  co'te-house,  sometimes, 

Fer  some  big  lawyer-boss. 
Dey  sees  me  set  yer  studyin' 

An'  comes  an'  calls  me  out 
An'  ses,  "Hi,  boy,  come  yer,  suh ! 

Now  w'at  'z  you  thinkin'  'bout  ?" 

155 


JES     A-STUDYIN 

I  smiles  an'  looks  real  pleasan' 

An'  jumps  ter  hoi'  de  rein, 
An'  ses,  "Who?  me?   Fse  studyin', 

Jes'  a-studyin',  boss,  ergain." 
Den  Jedge  he  looks  real  pleasan' 

An'  th'ows  me  down  a  dime., 
And  ses,  "Well,  min'  you  tell  me 

Wat  you  study  'bout,  nex'  time." 

Shucks !  cudden  tell  no  pusson 

Jes'  how  my  thoughts  done  roam, 
Dey  trabbles  thu  creation 

W'ile  I  sets  yer  at  home 
Jes'  studyin'  'bout  de  places 

I  nuver  spec's  ter  see, 
Esseptin'  thu  de  pictyahs 

In  my  geog'aphy. 

I  study  'bout  ter-morrer, 

I  study  'bout  ter-day, 
I  study  'bout  de  ol'  times 

An'  things  dat's  pas'  erway, 
But  mos'  uv  all  I  studies 

Ez  hard  ez  I  jes'  can 
Erbout  w'at  I'll  be  doin' 

W'en  I'se  a  growed-up  man, 

156 


Jes'  a-studyin'  all  de  day 


JES'  A-STUDYIN' 

So  much  dat  meks  me  wunner, 
So  much  dat  boys  dunno, 
Sech  li'l  w'ile  dey  bin  yer, 
Dat's  w'y  dey  studies  so. 

Jes'  studyin',  studyin',  studyin', 
Jes'  a-studyin'  all  de  day, 

An'  yit  some  calls  hit  loafin' 
An'  was'in'  time  erway. 


159 


MISS    JINNY 

BIN  settin'  yer  mos'  all  las'  night  lak  dis, 

So  I  be  sut'n  sho'  dat  I  doan'  miss 

De  train  dat  teck  me  back  ter  we-all's  place, 

An',  honey,  yo'n's  de  fustes'  fren'ly  face 

Fse  seed,  an'  yo'n's  de  on'ies'  fren'ly  wu'd, 

'Mongs'  all  dis  crowd,  my  po'  ol'  years  has  yeard. 

I  ax  some  white  trash,  p'litely,  ef  dey  know 

Jes'  w'en  de  kyar  fer  we-all's  place  'ud  go, 

Dey  bus'  out  laffin',  an'  den  off  dey  went 

A-lettin'  on  dey  doan'  know  whar  I  meant. 

Er  ef  dey  didn'  re'ly  know,  dat  shows 

Dey's  on'y  trash ;  de  quality  all  knows 

My  white-folks,  an'  jes'  whar  dey  all  belong. 

Honey,  I'se  mighty  'feard  I  start  off  wrong, 

I  hopes  you  'scuse  me  ef  I  ax  you  plain 

Ter  lemme  know  w'en  dey  calls  off  my  train. 


1 60 


•BHBBHPM»3 


An'  den  I  riz  up,  fer  I  seem  ter  see 
Dat  'uz  de  wu'k  de  Lawd  cut  out  fer  me! 


MISS   JINNY 

I  seed  youse  sho'-'nuff  lady  by  yo'  face, 

An'  knowed  you'd  know  de  train  fer  we-all's  place. 

Miss  Jinny's  maw  she  wanted  me  ter  go 

Wid  her  w'en  she  went  back,  but  I  say  no, 

I  cudden  leave  Miss  Jinny  yer  alone, — 

Seem  lak  I  love  her  same'z  she  bin  my  own ! 

I  nu'ss  her  sence  she  jes'  a  li'l  mite, 

An'  useter  have  her  wid  me  day  an'  night, 

De  cutes',  sweetes',  baddes'  li'l  sprig! 

An'  hit  'uz  jes'  de  same  w'en  she  growed  big, 

An'  w'en  she  ma'ied  den  she  tuck  me,  too ; 

She  say,  "W'y,  mammy,  hit  'ud  nuver  do 

Fer  me  ter  leave  you,  you  my  bestes'  fren' !" 

She  call  me  ''mammy"  ter  de  ve'y  en', 

Wid  her  las'  bref, — yas,  miss,  Miss  Jinny's  daid, 

We  bring  her  yer  las'  Chuseday,  an'  we  laid 

Her  down  ter  res'  'mongs'  all  her  husband's  kin, — 

Dat  'uz  his  sesso ;  we-all  want  her  in 

De  ol',  ol'  fambly  burryin'-groun'  whar  all 

Ow'  folks'  fo'parrents  waits  de  Las'  Day  call. 

Dey  went  back  Chuseday  evenin',  all  her  folks, 

Her  husban'  an'  her  maw  an'  all ;  dey  coax 

Ol'  mammy  fer  ter  go  back  w'en  dey  gone, 

But  I  jes'  cudden  leave  my  chile  alone. 


163 


MISS   JINNY 

Hit  'z  de  fus'  night  sence  she  drord  a  bref 
Dat  uver  ow'  Miss  Jinny  she  bin  lef ! 
An'  so  I  sot  down  by  her  grave  an'  stayed. 
De  dark  crep'  close  all  roun',  but  I  wan'  'fraid. 
An'  atter  w'ile  hit  seem  she  knowed,  somehow, 
An'  presen'y  I  think  I  year  her  'low, 
"O  mammy,  mammy,  faithful  ter  de  las' ! 
Yo'  love  hit  reach  eben  yer  beneaf '  de  grass. 
But  now  de  Everlastin'  Arms  dey  press 
Me  clost,  an'  teck  de  place  uv  all  de  res1. 
Go  back,  go  back,  dear  Mammy  Angeline, 
Teck  kyare  er  dat  po'  baby-chile  er  mine !" 
An'  den  I  riz  up,  fer  I  seem  ter  see 
Dat  'uz  de  wu'k  de  Lawd  cut  out  fer  me  !— 
But  dese  ol'  han's  dey  long  ter  sarve  her,  too  !— 
My  heart  done  burried  out  dar  long  er  you, 

Miss  Jinny !   Miss  Jinny  ! 


.  DE    TURKEY-TAIL    FAN 

'LiAS !  is  dat  my  tukkey-tail  fan 

You  gotten  in  yo'  ban'? 
Jes'  putt  hit  right  back  on  dat  nail 

Above  de  water-pail, 

Whar  you  gotten  hit  f'tim. 

Wen  I'se  erbout  yo'  size,  Aunt  Cindy  Ann 

She  gin  me  dat  ol'  fan ; 
Lawsee !   How  I  done  strut  all  day, 

Dey  cudden  git  hit  'way, 
I  tucken  hit  inter  baid. 


165 


DE  TURKEY-TAIL  FAN 

Hit  bin  thu  heaps  a-wavin'  in  my  han', 

Dat  'ar  ol'  fedder  fan. 
Wen  yo'  paw  came  a-co'tin'  me 

I  sot  an'  laughed  "Te-hee !" 
Behime  dat  same  ol'  fan. 

At  my  maw's  burryin'  I  hilt  de  fan 
Clincht  tight  up  in  my  han', 

Reckon  I'd  fainted  den  an'  dar 
But  fer  de  good,  cool  air, 

I  gotten  f'um  off  dat  fan. 

Wen  I  got  'ligion  I  whu'ld  dat  fan 

Victor'ous  in  my  han', 
A-shoutin'  "Glory !"  wid  all  my  might, 

Ontwel  I  mos'  tuck  flight 

On  de  wings  er  dat  'ar  fan. 

Wen  I  got  ma'ied,  de  good  ol'  fan 

Wuz  trem'lin'  in  my  han' ; 
I  made  dem  'sponses  mighty  low 

An'  hid  my  blushin',  so, 
Behime  de  tukkey  fan. 


166 


DE  TUKKEY-TML  FAN 

Wen  you-all  'z  sprinklt,  I  hilt  de  fan 
Right  proud-lak  in  my  han' ; 

'Ooman  dat  ter  de  Lawd  kin  show 
Twelve  chillen  in  a  row 

Has  'casion  ter  be  proud. 

Wen  y'all  burry  me,  I  wan'  dat  fan 

Betwix'  my  folded  han' ; 
Seem  lak  eben  on  Zion's  Hill 

I'd  wan'  dat  ol'  fan  still, 

Ter  beat  time  w'iles  I  sing — 

'Lias !   Fo'  de  Lawd,  is  dat  my  fan 

Still  in  yo'  sassy  han'  ? 
Jes'  putt  hit  right  back  on  dat  nail 

Above  de  water-pail, 

Whar  you  gotten  hit  f 'um ! 


LFL    SISTAH 

COME  on,  come  on,  li'l  sistah ! 

Teck  holt  my  ban'  an'  doan'  you  fear, 
Kain't  nuttin'  git  you  w'ile  I'se  near, 
I'll  chunk  big  dogs  dat  bark  an'  bay 
An'  chase  de  hookin'-cows  erway, 
Li'l  sistah,  li'l  sistah. 

Come  on,  come  on,  li'l  sistah ! 

Dey's  boogers  yonner  in  de  wood, 
But  I'll  teck  kyare  uv  you  right  good, 
Dem  jack-my-lantums  an'  dem  hants 
Doan'  fool  wid  boys  dat  wears  long  oants, 
Li'l  sistah,  li'l  sistah. 


168 


iaa 


Teck  holt  my  ban'  an   doan  you  fear 


LI'L  SISTAH 

Come  on,  come  on,  li'l  sistah ! 

I'se  bigger'n  you,  Fse  mos'  a  man, 
Got  heap  er  strenk  in  dish  yer  han', 
Ef  we  shu'd  meet  dat  Bully- Jim 
I'll  tu'n  my  fistes  loose  on  him, 
Li'l  sistah,  li'l  sistah. 

Come  on,  come  on,  li'l  sistah ! 
You  ac'in'  lak  a  fraidy-calf 
Wid  footses  nailed  plumt)  to  de  paff, 
I'll  teck  you  safe  right  down  de  hill 
An'  thu  de  swamp  an'  pas'  de  mill, 
Li'l  sistah,  li'l  sistah. 

Come  on,  come  on,  li'l  sistah ! 

Right  soon  we'll  git  ter  Milly's  home, 
An'  den  I'll  tell  her  I  done  come 
'Kase  mommer  wanster  borry — w'at? 
Oh,  lawsy  me!  I'se  done  fergot, 
Li'l  sistah,  li'l  sistah. 


171 


T5  3SOST 


